


PRIDE

by keiti221



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4537536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keiti221/pseuds/keiti221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Steve Rogers thinks that his last few years of college are going to be painfully dull, he meets the founder of the campus' first LGBT club and can't help but find himself enthralled by the enthusiastic brunet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first full-fledged Steve/Bucky story and it was inspired by a wonderful piece of fanart that you'll find here: http://maria-tries.tumblr.com/post/101011555025/if-you-think-college-student-steve-rogers-wouldnt
> 
> Be warned, the story does completely exceed just what the fanart entails, but it was the spark of life in my imagination for this story. It may take a bit to get the whole thing up here since I'm only posting a few pages at a time, but I plan to have it all up eventually. I hope you enjoy it!

College by now feels like nothing. It’s not interesting. It’s not challenging and it certainly isn’t fun. Not by a long shot. Especially not the first few weeks of your junior year.

“Mr. Rogers?”

The customary snickers from students who watched the PBS show growing up, trickle across the classroom.

Steve sighs and sits forward. “Yes?”

His teacher points to the board. “Can you tell me exactly why in World War I they built trenches?”

Glancing at the clock before returning his gaze to the professor in front, Steve rallies up the knowledge he often tries to keep others from noting he has. “Well, the invention of machine guns made for exceptionally casualty heavy battles, so in order to avoid this, they built trenches. Unfortunately for the soldiers on both sides, this resulted in the use of various gasses to harm, maim, and kill the opposing forces. Mustard gas was a particular doozy. Melted the skin right off your face and corroded your lungs. Nasty business.”

The professor nods excitedly. “Exactly, Mr. Rogers. The very weapons that brought about the trenches evolved the weapons of World War I to something so foul and inhumane that soldiers might have chosen the bullets over gas, given the chance. But we’ll get into that on Wednesday. Don’t forget to attend. If you miss the video, I’ll have notes for you to study instead. Have a good day.”

Not wanting to be rude, Steve slowly packs up as his professor is speaking rather than choosing to rush out with the rest of the class. Even still, he manages to embarrass himself by running into the wall while trying to get out of another student’s path. He checks his phone’s clock before thumbing through the dozen emails that flood into his inbox with a stronger Wi-Fi connection. Opening a curious looking email, Steve realizes that his next and only class is cancelled. That means one of two things. He could return to his dorm, but Brock could be there and English demands an essay be written by Thursday. Or, he could head to the campus’ centrally located coffee shop and possibly write at least his intro for the paper. Steve continues to walk while weighing his options and even before his shoes start to burn from the hot concrete, he’s at the steps of the café.

Sitting down in a corner booth, next to the bulletin board, Steve unfolds his laptop and begins typing away about the topic of is paper: slander during political campaigns. It may not have been his first choice, but the nutty looking guy with a vaguely arrow shaped dick drawn on his forehead picked extremism. However Steve couldn’t complain considering the guy swore to rip the West Boro church a new one.

Time has barely ticked by before Steve unknowingly distracts himself. Staring at all of the ads for clubs and fundraisers, Steve sips at his unexcitingly powder derived hot cider. He reaches up and plucks a brightly colored square note from its place under a pin. He examines the information. “Not straight-gay club? What the hell kind of name is that?”

“It was the best we could come up with on a short notice.”

Steve jumps, surprised at the fact that his rhetorical question was answered. He glances up at the speaker, shocked to find a brunet boy around his age, holding a whole pile of the square notes. “I’m sorry, what?”

The brunet grins. “Our club is officially called P.R.I.D.E. People Recognizing Identities Differ for Everyone.”

Steve crosses his arms and can’t help but smile. “Well now that’s clever.”

“Exactly!” He hands Steve a note. “Here’s the new flyer. I’m trying to go around and replace those.” He points to the one in Steve’s hand. “They’re a bit shameful. But I can give you a new one if you like. That is, if you’re interested…”

“Yeah. I’ll definitely take one.”

“Great!” He trades Steve the new flyer and shoves the old one in his pocket. “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” the playful arrogance diminishes. “-what are you?”

“You’re asking what my sexuality is?” He sets the flyer down. “That’s pretty personal. I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh gosh. Right. I’m sorry.” He sticks out his hand. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Steve takes his hand. “You don’t look like a James.”

“I get that a lot, actually.” Laughing, he retracts his hand. “Sorry for being so forward.”

“Aww, it’s fine Bucky. My name is Steve. Rogers.”

The brunet across from him climbs into the booth. “Bucky? Hmm, not so bad. Does that mean I get to call you Stevie?”

“Wait, what? No, no that was an accident, I promise.”

Waving his hand about, he silences Steve. “Don’t worry about it. I like it, actually. Bucky. It feels right. But since you’re so close to me that you can pick a nickname, will you answer my question?”

Steve shrugs. “Sure. But you can’t hold me to whatever I answer now.”

“I won’t.”

“Alright. I’m bi. What about you?”

Bucky waves him off again. “We’ll get to that in a second. Important things first, which gender do you favor? If you have a favorable one?”

“Umm…” Steve starts to sweat a little. “I guess it just depends on the person and whether or not I want to be the one bending over.”

Bucky grins wildly. “That’s a little slutty.” He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward. “We’re going to be good friends.”

Secretly happy with himself that he accidentally made a new friend, Steve interrogates Bucky. “So what do you identify as?”

“Me?” He purses his lips before answering quickly, “I’m gay. Like, hella gay.”

“Hella gay? Who’s the slut now?”

“Still you, since you’re willing to sample everybody.” Bucky winks and laughs before standing up and gathering his flyers. “Well I have to go.” He grabs Steve’s flyer and jots down a number. “Text me when you’re feeling slutty.” His second wink brings an amusing redness to Steve’s face that he can’t relish too long as he’s already headed toward the door.

Staring down at the messy numbers, slightly smudged from Bucky’s hand, Steve closes his laptop and pulls out his phone. He types the number into his phonebook and takes a deep breath, almost tempted to immediately call the brunet before he’s too far across the campus.

 

A few days later, it’s finally Thursday. Steve walks back from his English class, toward his dorm, with the weight of his essay happily lifted from his shoulders. He reaches the dorm and slips inside, without alerting his bunkmate. Setting down his book bag, Steve slumps to his bed and finds himself staring at a now crinkled P.R.I.D.E. flyer. It says that the meeting begins at 3:30 Thursday afternoons. That’s exactly twenty minutes away.

After a few seconds of pondering, Steve jumps up and begins to undress, searching through piles of clothes to find something mildly impressive. He slips on a cleaner pair of jeans and a regular t-shirt, hoping that Bucky won’t be deterred by the rather lean muscle the tight cotton barely shows off. He stuffs his wallet into his pocket before sneaking out the door again, counting on the fact that Brock’s music is too loud for him to hear doors shutting.

Steve sets off across campus to find a classroom in a building he hasn’t even set foot in before. While it takes only a few minutes to find the building, locating an unlocked door is a whole other dilemma. Steve checks his phone and feels his anxiety rising as the clock ticks over to 3:28.

“I am never going to find this place.” He settles down on a nearby planter and sighs, turning his phone over in his hands repeatedly.

“What are you looking for?” Bucky straddles the short wall beside Steve and grins at the lost blond.

“I-I was looking for your club…” He pulls out the crinkled flyer. “I wanted to go.”

Bucky laughs, “You obviously didn’t read it.”

“What?”

He takes the paper and unravels it. “See,” he points to the date, “-it starts  _next_  Thursday. You’re a week ahead.”

“Ohh… Damn.” Steve shoves his phone in his pocket. “I guess I’ll be seeing you then.”

“Whoa! Wait-wait-wait.” Bucky steps in front of Steve, putting his hand on his chest to hold him in place. “I gave you my number and a lot of innuendos and you never called or texted me. What’s the hurry? Did I get the wrong impression from you?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I just…” He shrugs. “I guess I just thought it was too good to be true. A guy like you has to have options, so why would I ever be a real one?”

“That’s pretty messed up, you know. You seem like a really great guy. I wanted to get to know you. That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be my boyfriend or anything.” Bucky hooks his arm around Steve’s and begins dragging him toward a dorm building. “Let me tell you what. I have nothing to do for the rest of this day, so let’s say we play video games. My roommate just got this really cool flying simulator if you’re interested.”

Three hours later of a flight simulator, pizza munching, and listening to Bucky’s roommate, Sam, talk about wanting to be a pilot, Steve is back on his way to his own dorm. This time however, Bucky makes him swear to text.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. I bought you pizza. The least you could do is show me a little friendship.”

Steve laughs, “Alright. I guess that’s a fair trade. I’ll see you next Thursday then?”

Bucky nods and waves his new friend goodbye, silently hoping he’ll be able to see the young blond sooner than a week.

He returns to his room and sits across from Sam, watching as he maneuvers a digital helicopter across the screen.

“So Steve huh?”

“What about him?”

Sam’s focus on the game wavers as he prods Bucky for answers. “Where’d you meet him? Why invite him here? What’s in it for you?”

Bucky frowns. “There’s nothing in it for me. I just need more friends.”

Sam feigns sadness. “Am I not good enough for you?”

Throwing a pillow at Sam, Bucky groans, “Stop acting like that.” He scoops another pillow into his arms and leans against the wall. “You know I’m looking for someone more…”

“Gay?”

“Well, yeah. I’m sorry, but talking about girls with you is about as much fun as when I talk about boys to you. Neither of us can really relate. I figure, I found someone who could.”

Sam shrugs and directs his full attention back to his game. “I get it. I do. And, for what it’s worth. I hope this friendship works out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took two weeks to update. I promise that won't happen from now on. I'm honestly going to try to update every Tuesday. Here's hoping I stick to it! Enjoy this chapter!

Periodic texting is nothing compared to actually being beside Bucky. Steve discovers this only a few minutes into their first phone conversation. The fact that he already misses the brunet’s voice slightly alarms him, but he brushes off the thought in favor of pursuing the friendship.

The week leading up to the first P.R.I.D.E. meeting drags on painfully slow. So badly in fact, that Steve decides to take matters into his own hands.

“Hey, Bucky? I know it’s a Monday night and all but I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight… If you’re free let me know. Thanks. Buh-bye.” Steve hits the end button on his phone and contemplates dropping it in the toilet. “Buh-bye? Have I turned into a suburban mother??” He hangs his head and sighs, “There is no way he is calling me-”

His phone begins to vibrate, the screen lighting up with Bucky’s name and a grey default photo. Steve scrambles to pick up the line, nearly hanging up as he gets it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey Steve. It’s Bucky. I got your message. Sorry for not answering. I just got out of the shower. You remember where my dorm is?”

“Y-Yeah. You want me to come over now?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. Yeah. Sure. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Steve ends the call and snatches up his important belongings before rushing out the door. When he arrives, Sam and his date are on their way out for the night, so he lets Steve in.

“Bucky?”

The brunet walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his waist. “Hey Steve.” He tightens the towel before walking over to the kitchen where Steve is frozen. “Sorry I’m not dressed. I forgot that my clothes were still in the wash.”

Steve glances around the dorm, trying not to let his eyes land on Bucky for too long. “Oh that’s fine. Do you want me to go?” He juts a thumb toward the door and scoots to the other side of the entrance when Bucky walks past to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“No, no. You can stay. It shouldn’t take much longer.” He tugs at the knotted towel and leisurely walks over to a shelf. “Like a fuck?”

Taken aback, Steve stutters. “I-I’m sorry, w-what did you say?”

“Do you like my truck?” Bucky points to the model truck on the shelf. “You’ve been staring at it.”

“Have I?” Steve laughs uncomfortably. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh it’s just something of my dad’s. Promised me when I was ten that I could have it when I got to college.”

“That’s neat. I see both of you kept that bargain.”

Bucky sighs, “Not really. He died when I was fifteen. Never got the chance to actually give it to me. My mom said he always wanted me to have it anyway.”

“Gosh, Buck. I’m sorry. Losing a parent… It’s not easy.” Steve pulls up a bar stool and slumps against the counter. “Not at all.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“My dad died some months before I was born, in the gulf war. My mom passed after, when I was eight. She walked home from work at the hospital every day since we lived in the apartments behind. One day, a drunk driver got her in the middle of the street.”

“Shit Steve, you’re an orphan?”

“Yeah… It’s a hard word to accept, but it’s been a lot of years. It tends to get easier as you get older. Somewhat.”

Bucky crosses the living room and drags Steve off his seat and into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Relenting into the embrace, Steve hugs Bucky back. “Me too.”

Pulling away, Bucky clears his throat. “I think I hear the dryer. Where do you want to go for dinner?”

“Ah, I don’t know. You have any place in mind?”

 

Standing in front of a large neon sign, Steve quickly regrets asking if Bucky had a favorite place to spend excess time. “Rainbow Charlie’s?”

“Yeah.” He grabs Steve’s arm and starts hauling him toward the door. “They have really good food here.”

They step into the restaurant and Steve sighs happily, relieved that there aren’t any strobe lights within visual range. “So it’s just a restaurant?”

“Well there’s a club in the back, but I usually don’t go there unless I’m looking to hook up on a Saturday or something.”

Steve stares at Bucky, slightly shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. “You… Do you… Is that a _frequent_ thing?”

Bucky smirks. “Why? You jealous?” He watches, amused, as Steve’s face becomes bright red. “I’m kidding. It’s not often, no. But come on. We have a table in the back.”

The restaurant fills around them and one by one each table vacates until once again it’s only Bucky and Steve sitting in the back room.

Swirling around the watered down mixer, Bucky laughs at his own story. “And that is why I can never own a cat.”

Feeling the booze hit his head, Steve slumps against the booth. “Your coursin is a frick for dressin up those catsss.”

Nodding, Bucky silently agrees to the nonsense. He pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and places it on the table. “C’mon Steve. I gotta walk you home.”

Steve grumbles, pushing Bucky’s arm away from his waist. “I’m havin lots of fum.”

“Yeah, I know, bud.” He pushes the table away and stands up, dragging Steve to his feet and letting the blond lean heavily against him. “But you’re a lightweight and I can’t have you passing out in the middle of a respectable restaurant.”

Slurring something indistinguishable, Steve begins to laugh as Bucky hauls him out to the street. Bucky hails a cab and stuffs his drunken friend inside, unwilling to carry him all the way back to campus. They’re dropped off at Bucky’s building and the brunet contemplates taking Steve home, ultimately deciding not to when he realizes the blond is nearly asleep.

Knocking furiously on his door, Bucky hoists Steve up further, hoping that Sam is home to answer. It doesn’t take long for his roommate to come to the door.

“It is almost midnight on a MONDAY. What the hell are you doing out so late?” He stops to look down at Bucky’s arms. “Is that Steve?”

“Yep.” Bucky strains to get him to the couch. “Heavier than he looks. The worst lightweight I’ve ever met.” He drops the blond on the loveseat and tugs his shoes off before draping a blanket over him. “Sorry about this.”

Sam rolls his eyes and shrugs. “He’s already out. Won’t matter to me as long as he doesn’t make much noise.” He heads for his room. “You stay quiet too and I’ll let this slide.”                                                          

“Thanks.” Bucky grabs an extra pillow from his room and sticks it underneath Steve’s head. He brushes back a few bits of hair from his face and admires how serene the blond looks despite the circumstances. “Goodnight, Steve.”                                                         

 

The next morning, Steve sits up and glances around. Feeling more groggy than usual, he stays seated on the couch while searching his pockets for his phone. “10:28. Was I really here all night?” He throws back the blanket and stands up. “Bucky?”

Sam answers back with a tired voice, “He has a class at 10.”

“Thanks.” Steve slips on his shoes and heads for the door. “I’ll see you later, Sam.”

He responds with a grumble and with that Steve begins walking back to his own dorm. Brock greets him with a shove as he’s barreling out of the door. Not that Steve minds so much, considering that means he has the place to himself until his class at noon.

He showers away the smell of stale cologne and pulls on new clothes, happily waltzing around the dorm in sweatpants with no shame coming from his roommate. He sits down to eat a quick bite before class and makes sure to text Bucky concerning his whereabouts. The brunet responds quickly with a ‘thanks’ and a suggestive emoji. Steve rolls his eyes and sets down his phone, suddenly blissful at the fact that he even met Bucky.

 

Rereading the P.R.I.D.E. flyer several times over, Steve double checks that it's Thursday and nearly 3:30 before carefully opening a door in building F. He steps into the room and sighs, relieved, when he sees Bucky dragging chairs around.

“Need some help?”

“Huh?” Bucky spins on his heel and beams when he sees Steve. “HEY! So glad you came.” He glances at the chairs. “Yeah, help would be nice. I just want them in a circle with comfortable distance in between them.”

Steve sets one down and walks three feet away before planting another. “How’s this?”

Bucky throws a roll of masking tape at him. “Stop being a punk.”

Laughing, Steve slides the chair over and kicks the tape back to Bucky. “So are you nervous about your first day as the P.R.I.D.E. club leader?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes…”

Bucky sits down in one of the set chairs. “I’m so worried I’m going to mess this up. I mean, it’s hard enough being gay but like if I make what’s supposed to be a safe place for the LGBT community into an embarrassing mess? I feel like I’d have failed as a person.”

“And as a gay?”

“YES! Shit, Steve, I don’t know if I can do this.” He buries his face in his hands. “I can’t disappoint them.”

Steve kneels in front of Bucky and grabs his wrists, pulling them away so he can see the brunet’s face. “Look. It’s never easy the first day you do anything. But that's not to say you _can’t_ do it… I mean, you’ve got the gay part down. That counts for something, right?”

Bucky scoffs and shoves Steve back, grinning. “Is this your cheer-up-you-can’t-fuck-it-that-bad speech?”

“Yes it is.” Steve lets go of Bucky and stands up. “You said this was the first gay club for the university, right? So that just means no one knows what to expect. You get to set the rules.” He grabs a chair and drags it into the circle. “Any start is a good start.”

“Okay but, what am I supposed to talk about?”

“Why not start with an ice breaker? Name, orientation if their comfortable, and a fact they think is interesting. Then from there, since you know, it’s the first day and all, you could talk about why you thought it was important to create this club in the first place.” Steve picks a chair in the circle and sits. “You only have thirty minutes to fill. Don’t stress too hard.” He glances around. “Oh and next week offer something like, drinks or cookies. Sometimes that alone will help your cause.”

Bucky finishes organizing his pile of chairs before propping the door open and sitting across from Steve. “You’re pretty good at this cheer-up business.”

The blond grins. “I know.”

Within the next five minutes, most of the chairs fill up. Nearly twenty people arriving for the meeting.

Bucky stands and introduces himself. “I’m James Barnes and I am the founder of University 107th’s very first LBGT club.” He glances at Steve who gives a smirk and a thumbs up before continuing. “But we’ll get back to that in a little bit. We’ll go around and introduce ourselves. If you like, you can include your orientation and a fact about your life that you don’t mind sharing.”

A curly haired brunette beside him raises her hand. “Do you mind if I go first? I have really exciting news!”

Bucky laughs and nods as he sits down. “Be my guest.”

She sits forward. “Alrighty, so I’m Angie Martinelli. I’m pansexual and I just celebrated my one year anniversary with my absolutely lovely girlfriend.”

One by one, each person takes their turn, though none are quite as eager as the first, until the round table introduction returns to Bucky.

“Like I said, I’m James Barnes. I am gay and currently in the process of pursuing a guy I met in one of my classes. We’ll see where this goes by next week.” He laughs and starts off into an earnest tale of how he decided to found the club. Bucky talks, really unaware of how enthralled his peers are in his story. All except one.

Steve fiddles with his thumbs, paying more attention to them in his lap than to his friend speaking about an important matter. He sighs, chest feeling heavy with his stomach turning in knots. Glancing up at Bucky, he starts to wonder who his friend could have feelings for. The clock ticks to 4:03 and Steve only realizes that it’s time to go when Bucky stands and thanks everyone for attending. He grins when the brunet promises to bring food next time they meet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this answers a few questions. :)

Standing and stretching in front of his chair, Steve waits around for Bucky to finish talking to the few people surrounding him. The group of people surrounding him slowly diminishes as he finishes up the conversation with each of them, leaving only Steve in front of the brunet.

Bucky smiles. “I didn’t fuck up.”

Steve laughs, “No, you didn’t.”

“I can’t believe I was so nervous! All of those people at the end were so nice. A couple thanked me for being so genuine.” Bucky shakes Steve’s shoulder. “Why was I so nervous!”

Steve shrugs. “It happens.” He glances at his shoes before stepping toward the door. “Well I’m gonna hit the trail.”

“Wait.” Bucky begins stacking chairs. “Wait!”

Turning at the door, Steve hesitates. “What is it?”

Bucky shoves the chairs to one corner and hurries over to Steve. “What are you doing right now?” He shoos the blond outside and locks the door. “Do you have class or are you free?”

Thinking about his homework for history, Steve grimaces at the thought of being up late to finish it. “I-”

Bucky stares at him, eagerly waiting for an answer.

“I’m free to do whatever.”

“Great! Bucky links arms with Steve and drags him outside of the building. “I have to pick up something from my dorm and meet somebody at the library to collect a USB but after that we should head into town.”

“S-Sure. Whatever you want. But doesn’t going into town require a car?”

“Oh that’s no problem. I have a car.” Bucky pushes through the double doors to the dorm building and rapidly presses the elevator up button. “That’s what I’m getting. The keys.” He grins. “You’re gonna love my car.”

“I’m sure I will…” Steve wonders when Bucky will let go of his arm but forgets when he departs to his dorm room the second they reach the third floor. He waits by the elevator for Bucky’s return and questions the brunet when he returns. “So what exactly is this USB for?”

“Oh it’s nothing much. Just the start to a project for my communications class. Me and Jack are doing a presentation on communication intimacy.”

Steve’s stomach stirs again. “Jack?”

“Yeah. New friend of mine.”

Steve’s words taste bitter. “Got a lot of those, don’t you.”

Bucky glances down at Steve. “You okay?”

The blond forces a smile and crosses his arms, leaning against the railing as they wait for the elevator to descend. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

The elevator doors slide open and Steve steps out. “Yep.”

The two of them walk toward the library, silently striding toward the three story building. They scan their university ID’s and Bucky heads left to the stairwell, leading Steve to the computers.

“Hey Jack. Sorry I’m late.” He glances at Steve. “Jack, this is my best friend, Steve Rogers.” Bucky flashes a small smile in Steve’s direction. “I had to pick up a few things before coming here.”

Jack looks up from his computer and spins his chair around to face the other two. He looks Steve up and down before suppressing a laugh. “How’d you get to know James here?”

Feeling his lip pull up in disgust, Steve turns to Bucky and gives him a slap on the shoulder, trying not to take Jack’s reaction personally. “Oh Buck and I met through some spur of the moment flirting.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jack doesn’t suppress his laughter this time. “Flirting? Oh boy that’s a good one.” He looks up at Bucky. “James, I thought you had a type.”

Bucky unclenches his jaw for a moment to give Jack a mocking smile. “Oh I never said that. You must not be as good at reading people as you thought.” He laughs uncomfortably and holds out his hand. “Can I get that USB now?”

Turning around, Jack fiddles with the computer and pulls the USB from its port. “Here you go. Should be everything you need to finish the project by Monday morning.” He eyes Steve. “I’m sure you won’t be busy.”

Feeling his face redden, Steve tenses up and opens his mouth to say something but Bucky doesn’t give him the chance. He grabs Steve’s forearm and drags him away, halfheartedly thanking Jack for the information. He doesn’t let go until they reach the first floor and have already scanned out of the system.

Bucky shoves the device in his pocket and exhales loudly. “I’m so sorry about that. I’ve never seen him behave that way. I can’t believe what he said.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Steve strokes Bucky’s arm. “It’s not like you provoked him to say things like that. So don’t worry about it. Not for one more second.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not at you.”

Smiling, Bucky nods. “Okay. I guess we should get into town if we want to make our reservations.”

“Reservations?” Steve frowns. “I don’t remember ever making reservations.”

“You didn’t. I did. I figured it would be fun to take you to this really delicious Mexican restaurant, but they usually have awful wait times, so I booked a reservation for the two of us.” Bucky blushes slightly. “It sounds a bit corny now.”

Steve nudges Bucky lightly. “That’s sweet of you to be so considerate. I appreciate the thought.”

“Thanks. Well, we better be going. You have everything you need?”

Patting his pockets, Steve groans. “I forgot my wallet at home. Let me run back and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bucky spins his keyring around his finger as he begins walking toward the parking garage. “I can handle it.”

Steve rushes to catch up. “I can’t let you do that. I have my own money.”

Bucky wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I know… But you don’t have to pay. It’s my treat.”

Frowning, Steve gives Bucky an incredulous look. “What is this now, a date?”

Bucky stops walking and blushes something fierce before ducking his head down and walking faster. “N-no. What would give you that impression?”

Realizing he made Bucky uncomfortable, Steve drops the subject. “So what do you suggest we do while in town? We can’t go JUST to eat.”

Unlocking his car door, Bucky shrugs. “I guess we’ll see when we get down there.”

 

After getting chastised over the dinner bill, Bucky leads Steve down to the pier. “I really love the way the sun hits the water.”

Steve blinks rapidly and shields his eyes. “You mean how it blinds you?”

Bucky laughs, “No. That’s not it.” He sighs, “I like the way it illuminates the waves.”

Elbowing Bucky playfully, Steve pokes fun at the brunet. “I didn’t know you were such a sap. Are you secretly a hopeless romantic?”

“Maybe. Hopelessly homo romantic.”

“That’s not so secret, you know.” Steve unties his shoes and sits on the edge of the dock, dipping his toes in the chilly water. “So… Any guys you want to bear your feelings to?”

Bucky follows Steve’s example and sits down beside the blond. “Just one, to be honest.” He splashes his feet around. “I want to tell him how I feel, but I don’t think he’ll react well.”

“Hey, Buck?”

“Hmm?”

Steve kicks water onto Bucky’s legs and laughs. “You can’t be so melodramatic. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Jack could hate me.”

Steve’s chest tightens up as he directs his attention to Bucky. “What?”

The brunet keeps his eyes on the water. “You heard me…”

“Yeah but I’m not sure what you mean.”

Bucky sighs and looks up at Steve with sad eyes. “I had feelings for Jack, but-”

“Oh.” Muscles tensing, Steve resists the urge to jump up and run. “I don’t feel good.” He suddenly feels sick. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes to the nearest trash can, unloading his stomach contents into the plastic bin. Groaning, he apologizes weakly to Bucky who’s hurried to his side.

“Shit Steve, don’t apologize.” Bucky brushes sweaty strands of hair back from Steve’s forehead and cups his face. “Are you okay?”

Steve coughs over the trash can, spitting out blood and wiping his lip. “No. I’m not.”

Bucky grabs their shoes and wraps his arm around Steve. “Let me help you.”

“No.” He pushes Bucky away. “I don’t need you.”

The brunet stops in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing and lip trembling. “You don’t mean that…” He steps forward. “What’s wrong?”

Unable to control his anger, Steve throws his arms out. “EVERYTHING. You flirt with me when we meet and I think it’s too good to be true. Then we become friends and I realize it might not be but in fact it really is. Because YOU have a crush on an ASSHOLE but still manage to make me feel like **I’M** the special one to you.” He kicks the trash can. “FUCK!” He grumbles and rubs his foot before standing up and tearing his shoes out of Bucky’s hand. “I’m finished with letting myself feel second rate. DONE.”

Steve storms off, hiding his face because he can no longer keep tears from rolling down his cheeks. He keeps walking as Bucky calls out behind him, begging him to stop.

“STEVE! WAIT! **PLEASE!!** JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN! STEVE!!”

The blond turns into a drug store and fishes loose change from his pocket, buying a pack of gum from the disgruntled employee that keeps looking at his bare feet. He thanks the cashier and exits quickly, running straight into Bucky.

“For the love of fuck, Steve. Just listen to me for a minute.” He grabs the blond by the wrist and tows him to a nearby street bench. “I swear I can explain.”

Steve pops a couple pieces of gum in his mouth and crosses his arms, barely looking at Bucky. “Go ahead.”

He sighs. “You interrupted me earlier with your stomach business. I was trying to tell you that I HAD feelings for Jack but when I met you, it was like he never existed.” Bucky wipes a lingering tear off of Steve’s cheek. “When he acted that way around you today, I wanted to punch his lights out.” Bucky scoots closer. “Please, don’t for a minute think that he could mean more to me than you do.”

Steve stares at his toes, ignoring Bucky’s gaze.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have anything to say…?”

The blond lets out a laugh, “I feel so embarrassed.”

Bucky pulls him into a hug. “I don’t blame you for acting the way you did. Jack acted horribly today and I’d probably hate myself too if I still had feelings for him.” He smirks. “If I told him how I felt about him now, I’d be telling him to shove a porcupine up his ass.”

Steve grins. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Bucky nudges Steve. “I’m sorry for being too vague.”

He nudges him back. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“Want to go home now?”

Though he'd rather stay and make amends for his volatile reaction, Steve sides with the pain in his stomach. “Yeah… That's probably a good idea.”

 

Steve climbs out of Bucky’s car, still carrying his shoes. He says goodbye and begins walking across the warm pavement to his own dorm, wondering what exactly he should do about what Bucky said about him. Though the thought doesn't linger too long. When his exhaustion from the night gets the better of him, he lets the idea of discussing further feelings die the second his head hits the pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

Already in the bad habit of looking forward to P.R.I.D.E. meetings, Steve finds himself sad that the fifth one has just wrapped up. He sweeps cookie crumbs into a dust pan and watches Bucky talk to a soccer player with tight shorts and abs. He frowns and bangs the dust pan into the trash can, smirking to himself when the jock jumps at the noise.

Steve waits for Bucky at the door, mindlessly realizing that it’s been three weeks since the disaster at the pier. Part of him wants to tell Bucky that he feels the same; the other half still isn’t sure that Bucky admitted to having feelings for him. Both parts are confused and neither want to clear the air, especially if the two of them have avoided the subject for this long.

Realizing that Bucky might take longer than he wants to stand around for, Steve wanders outside and takes a seat on one of the planters in the shade. He pulls out his phone and tinkers with a silly game he downloaded for moments like this.

Bucky appears out of nowhere and stands in front of Steve. “Sorry that took so long. He had a lot of questions about asexuality.”

“Thank God.”

“What?”

“Thank God for asexuals. They are such interesting people.” Steve begins to slide off of the planter but Bucky remains in his way. “Is something wrong?”

Bucky steps back. “We need to talk.”

Steve slips off the concrete and sets his sights on Bucky. “Alright. What is it?”

Leaning against one of the bannisters, Bucky crosses his arms. “I feel bad for doing this, but it needs to be discussed.” He sighs, “We have to talk about what happened at the pier.”

“I figured it had to be done at some point.”

“Yeah…” Bucky glances down and lets his arms fall to his sides. “I can’t be your friend anymore.” He holds up a hand to silence Steve upon seeing the blond gasp and begin to say something. “I want more. I want you to be my boyfriend.” He inadvertently blushes. “But that can’t happen if we’re still friends.” Bucky’s anxiety spikes and he begins talking faster, “And I understand that you might want to stay just friends but I don’t think I can do that, feeling the way I do about you. You’re something special Steve and I just-”

Utilizing the tips of his toes, Steve silences Bucky with a kiss. A sweet press of his lips to the quick pink ones above him. He pulls away and turns red. “Sorry. I just wanted to tell you that I felt the same way.”

An excited grin breaks onto Bucky’s face as he pulls Steve close, bending down to kiss the blond. He pushes his fingers into the coiffed blond locks, messing up the perfect part as he deepens the kiss. Steve separates himself for a second, only to catch his breath and knot his fingers in the loopholes of Bucky’s jeans, ultimately minimizing all distance between the two of them.

“Well, well, well.” The owner of the commentator snickers. “I guess Steve Rogers really is a faggot.”

Steve pushes Bucky away and wheels around quickly, only to freeze in terror as his roommate gives him a snarled lip. “Brock…”

He steps forward, the lumbering crony behind him mirroring his actions while remaining silent. “You know, I had my suspicions but I had hoped that you would be better than this.” He gestures to Bucky.

Bucky grits his teeth, “That’s hilarious, coming from you, Rumlow.”

“Is it really Barnes?” Brock steps forward again, closing in on the pairs’ personal space. “Because the last time I checked I wasn’t a shit eater that disappointed his father like you.”

Reddening, Bucky balls his hands up, tensing. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Or what?” Brock flashes a smug grin. “You’ll stick your cock in it?” He reaches out and pushes Bucky. “You’re just as weak as you always were, Barnes. Gay, sad, pathetic piece of shit. It’s no wonder that your dad died. He was probably too ashamed to have a homo for a son.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he lashes out, kicking Brock’s shin and punching him in the jaw when he doubles over. “DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!”

Staggering back, Brock rubs his chin and laughs, speaking with dead seriousness. “I’m going to fucking kill you Barnes.”

Bucky growls, “I’d like to see you try.”

Brock raises his fists and lashes out at an unassuming Steve. The blond stumbles backward, falling against the wall.

He screams as blood dribbles from his nose, down his face. “WHAT THE HELL!”

Bucky steps in front of Steve. “You’re gonna fight dirty? You were always a lousy asshole.”

Narrowing his eyes on Bucky, Rumlow sneers, “At least I’ve never fucked one you dirty queer.”

Irritated and having heard enough, Bucky throws a fist at Brock, barely missing as the other swerves out of range. Retaliating, Rumlow tackles Bucky to the ground and pins him. He raises his fist and lets loose, punching the younger brunet repeatedly. Steve picks himself off the ground and jumps on Brock’s back, attempting to distract him. Bucky scrambles to his feet as Steve is thrown back to the concrete momentarily. Rumlow’s massive friend plucks Steve from the floor, hauling him up by the shirt. Steve cringes and tries to cover his face in time, flailing all the while. He accidently kicks the guy in the groin and is consequently dropped. Landing with a thud, Steve groans as he rolls to his stomach, trying to gain his footing in order to stand and help Bucky who’s cornered by Rumlow.

 A shrill whistle scares the four young men. Brock uses the brief distraction to sock Bucky in the ribs before taking off, calling his backup to follow. Steve hurries over to Bucky and helps him to his feet but neither of them can escape the police officer from stopping them.

The burly bald man raises an eyebrow at the two of them. “What in the world is going on here?”

Taking a labored breath, Bucky attempts to explain that the two men running away initiated the conflict.

The officer crosses his arms. “Who threw the first punch?”

Bucky freezes, eyes flicking over to Steve who shrugs and shakes his head. “Uh, well, I did, Sir…”

Displeased, the office pulls something from his belt. “I’m going to have to take both of you in.” He unclicks two pairs of handcuffs. “Put your arms behind your backs. If you try to run, this is only going to get more difficult.”

Steve grumbles as the metal closes around his wrists. “You know, they verbally attacked us. This isn’t our fault. They were yelling homophobic slurs and-”

“Son. Save your breath for the judge.”

At the precinct, Steve remains stoic in front of the camera, still irritated at his chafing cuffs and the whole situation. Bucky is less tense as he grins for the photographer, split lip dripping blood as he smirks. Steve rolls his eyes and holds out his hands for an officer to unlock his cuffs as he’s shoved into a jail cell. Bucky follows suit mere moments later, shit eating grin still plastered on his face.

“What the hell are you smiling about?”

Bucky ignores his question and sits on the bench, one leg on each side. He pats the space in front of him, beckoning Steve to the back of the cell. “Well, that actually happened to us. What a night, huh?”

“I can’t believe Brock is suck a dickwad.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve known that for years.”

Steve moves to stands in front of the brunet. “Buck? How did he know your dad?”

Sighing, Bucky lays back. “We have history. He was my neighbor’s grandson. I had to deal with him during summers, which was bad enough. But when I started high school, he was there too. He tormented me for the entire year I was a freshman. Rumlow was certainly biggest douche of the junior class. He kept at it for part of sophomore year too, but something happened with his parents that year. I think they got a divorce. He’d still see me during the summers, but I learned to avoid him by then.” Bucky frowns. “I never told anyone what he did to me. I was afraid they’d think I was as weak as he did.”

“Bucky…”

“Don’t start Steve. I didn’t tell you all of that for sympathy. I’ve moved on since then. Or at least I’ve tried. Anyway, how do you know Rumlow?”

Steve sighs and resigns himself to sitting with Bucky. “Brock is my roommate.”

Bucky sits up. “Are you kidding? That’s shitty.” He shakes his head. “You can’t live with him anymore. Not after what happened today.”

“Where else am I supposed to stay?”

“How about with Sam and I?” Bucky scoots forward so that he can nearly pull Steve onto his lap. “Sam likes you and I know I wouldn’t mind sharing a room.” He gives Steve a wink that makes the blond blush.

“You have to stop doing that.” Steve shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, and reaches up to touch Bucky’s face. “He did a number on you.”

“Is that right?”

Nodding, Steve runs a gentle finger over the blooming bruises on Bucky’s skin. “Can’t you feel these? You have about three bruises. Two on your cheeks and one on your jaw. Not to mention your busted lip.” He traces a cut on Bucky’s forehead. “That might need stitches.”

Bucky swats Steve’s hand away. “I’m fine. What about you? You still have blood all over your face from when he punched you. And if I’m not mistaken.” He grazes his thumb underneath Steve’s eye. “That’s going to be black in the morning.”

Steve slumps forward, head resting on Bucky’s chest. “What are we going to do?”

Petting the ruffled blond hair in front of him, Bucky sighs, “I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know.”

“They can only keep us here if we’re being charged with a crime, right?” Steve groans. “I don’t remember much from that criminal justice class I took in high school.”

“Steve, that was probably five years ago.”

“It was.” He glances up at Bucky and kisses him, avoiding the cut on his mouth. “I’m kind of scared.”

“I know. I am too.” Pushing Steve a couple inches away, Bucky apologizes. “I wish we could do stuff like that in here, but I’m pretty sure they’d separate us if they noticed.”

Scooting further back, Steve nods. “You’re probably right.” He stands up and walks to the bars. “Do we get a phone call or is that some bullshit from the movies?”

Bucky snickers behind him and Steve receives a glare from the police officer writing at his desk. The man eventually stands and brings a tethered phone to the side of the cell.

“Only one of you gets to call.”

Bucky bumps Steve out of the way. “I’m calling Sam.”

“Are you sure he’ll come get us?”

“No… But he’s our best option.” He picks up the receiver and dials his roommate’s cell. After three rings, Sam picks up and Bucky unloads everything. “Hey, Sam. Steve and I kind of got in a physical fight with a couple of other guys and now we’re in jail because of it. Is there any way that you could just drop what you’re doing and come bail us out?” He listens for a moment and suppresses a smile. “Yeah I know. But how long will that take?” Steve tries to listen closer but can’t hear much of what Sam is saying. “Okay. Thanks Sam. See you soon.”

Bucky hands the phone to the officer and goes to sit on the bench again. “Now we wait.”


	5. Chapter 5

After Sam shows up and gets the two of them out of perspective trouble, Bucky takes it upon himself to find out exactly what’s going on. He smiles sweetly at the clerk at the front desk. “Hi, so I’d like to know if I ever have to come back here again, seeing as neither me nor Steve her have been charged with a crime…”

She shuffles some papers and sighs. “I’m so sorry. You were supposed to be released an hour ago. The arresting officer caught up with the two men you described and they didn’t want to press charges against you.” She stacks them to the side. “You’re free to go.”

Bucky thanks her and grabs Steve’s arm, towing him out of the building quickly. “I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

“Hey Buck? Do you think we could go get my stuff?”

Sam stops walking in front and wedges himself between Steve and Bucky. “Your stuff?”

“Yeah. I told him he could live with us.”

“Not that I don’t like you Steve, but why did you tell him that?”

Bucky slides into the passenger’s seat and stares at Sam. “Well the guy who wailed on us happens to be Steve’s roommate. Preferably, I’d like to keep my boyfriend safe.”

Sam glances back at Steve. “Boyfriend?”

Steve grins wildly. “Boyfriend.”

Sam sighs, “Well this is new.” He starts the engine. “It’s all fine by me, but I don’t have a big car so let’s hope you don’t have a lot of stuff.”

Luckily for the three of them, Brock is leaving the building as they pull into the parking lot closest to Steve’s dorm. They spill out of the car and hurry to Steve’s room on the first floor. Bucky grabs garbage bags from underneath the sink and begins stuffing Steve’s clothes in.

The blond takes notice. “Hey… Be gentle with those.”

“Steve, they’re cloth. They will be fine.” He crams all of Steve’s wardrobe into two bags and hauls them to Sam’s car.

After tearing down every poster and boxing up every trinket, Steve scans the room. “I don’t think there’s anything else.”

Bucky kneels down and looks under the furniture. “Well we got everything except for this.” He pulls a box from underneath the bed and hands it to Steve. “Is that yours?”

The blond opens it and shuts it immediately, turning bright red. “Yes…”

Snatching it back, Bucky peeks inside the box and can’t suppress his laughter. “Hiding dildos, Rogers? I wouldn’t figure you as the type.”

Steve grabs the paraphernalia and drops it into a larger box before taping it all up. “We don’t need to talk about that again.”

“C’mon Steve… Are you just worried that I’ll catch you using one of them?”

Picking up the box, Steve heads toward the door. “If you’re a good boyfriend I won’t have to.”

Bucky stops, slack jawed and shaking his head. “That’s a lot of nerve you got.”

Glancing back, Steve hardly waits for Bucky as he walks out to the car. “Can you prove that you’re better than a box under the bed?”

Catching up, Bucky pins Steve to the side of Sam’s car. “Any time, any place.”

Sam clears his throat. “Yeah, but not here and not now. Get in the car before you dent my door with your ass.”

Driving half way around campus, Sam parks in the car garage, counting himself lucky that there was a spot on level two and he didn’t have to keep searching for long. It takes three trips to bring all of Steve’s stuff in, mostly because Bucky became lazy and started to drag one of the clothing bags.

“Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you dragging that?”

“My arm is tired.”

“Okay…” Steve stares at the bag, noticing that the plastic is fraying. “I think it’s gonna-” The bag busts open and Steve’s clothes pour out of their containment. “-break.”

Bucky turns around and sighs, tossing the top half of the bag on the pile of clothes. “I’ll go put this stuff down and come back for this.”

He leaves for the dorm room just as Sam is passing Steve. He stops and shakes his head, handing Steve an extra bag. “I definitely called that.”

Steve kneels down and transfers his clothes back into a clean location before working his way up to the dorm room. Bucky greets him at the door and takes his clothes, shoving them into the hall closet.

“Sorry they have to be here, but my closet is full and so is Sam’s. Plus we haven’t ever used this one. I hope there’s enough room.”

Steve slides the door open and peeks in. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Is there any way I could get an extra bed somewhere or will the couch do?”

Bucky stares at his bedroom, trying to calculate the space. “We could get bunk beds.”

“Are you serious?” Steve glances at Bucky who is still thinking. “Bucky?”

“It could work…”

“I don’t see how.”

“Well it would take up less space than two beds. The only other option would be to get a full sized bed and share.” Bucky walks into the kitchen, scooting a box out of his way with his foot. “Which would you rather?”

“Where would we get a bunk bed? And how would we even get it in here?”

Bucky rummages through the fridge. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam squeezes past Steve and sits down on the couch. “I just talked to Natasha.” He picks up the remote and props his feet up on the coffee table. “She says that her and Maria have an extra bed in their dorm. We can take it for free.”

Bucky reemerges from the back of the fridge with two wine coolers and a beer. “There you go. Problem solved.” He tosses the beer to Sam and shoves a bottled sangria into Steve’s hand. “When can we pick it up?”

Sam thumbs through the channels and settles on Jeopardy. “The two of them were going out for the night. Said we could pick it up when they get back. Likely we’ll get it tomorrow. You don’t mind sleeping with Barnes, do you Steve?”

The blond blushes and shakes his head. “I-I can sleep on the couch again.”

Bucky grins at Steve and picks up a box with his free hand. “Shall we reorganize the bedroom?”

By the time midnight rolls around, every last belonging of the two men has a place in the room. Bucky smiles at the space and nods. “I think this is the cleanest it’s been in a while. And we have enough room for your bed!” He lays down on the floor, right where they saved space for the bed to be. “This is going to be fun.”

Steve yawns, “If you say so.”

Clambering to his feet, Bucky joins Steve on his bed. “Feeling tired?”

“Mmm.”

Bucky laughs softly, “I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls Steve close, allowing him to rest on his chest as his eyes gradually fall shut. He kisses the blond hair beneath his chin and stands slowly, gently moving around Steve so that he doesn’t wake. He stuffs a pillow under Steve’s head and draws a blanket up over his shoulders. “Goodnight.”

Wandering out to the living room, Bucky shuts the TV off and nudges Sam. He startles awake and frowns at Bucky who helps him to his feet and pushes him in the direction of his own room. The brunet sighs and slips off his shoes, lowering himself to the couch under the realization of how tired he really is.

 

“Buck?” Steve shakes his roommate’s shoulder. “Bucky…”

The brunet opens one eye, barely conscious to realize that Steve is trying to wake him up. “Hmm?”

“It’s 10:39.”

“Hmm.”

“Bucky… Wake up. Sam needs your help with the bed.”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky slowly sits up, feeling his head swoon and knowing he’s slept too long. “Is he over there yet?”

“Yeah. I tried to help him.” Steve laughs uncomfortably. “But I couldn’t lift it with him.”

Still tired, Bucky smiles weakly and kisses Steve’s cheek. “You’re cute.” He swings his legs over the side of the couch and hesitates. “Tell Sam I’ll be there in a minute.”

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Bucky have finally gotten the bed into the first bedroom without damaging the walls or furniture, though that doesn’t count all too well for the pinched fingers. Bucky slides the bed against the wall and drags the mattress over, dumping it onto the wooden frame.

He claps his hands and turns to Steve. “You’re all set.” He sits down. “Care to test it out?”

Steve frowns. “I’m not tired.”

“That’s not, um. Actually, yeah. Duh. It’s practically the middle of the day.” He stands abruptly and walks out of the room, pacing into the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge. “Thirsty?”

 

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to become fully situated with Steve now living in his space. They’ve learned to maneuver around each other seamlessly yet often care less if elbows bump or legs collide. In a matter of weeks, Bucky’s become dependent on Steve. The quiet room screams until Steve’s gentle breathing breaks through and numbs the silence. On nights he can’t sleep, Bucky lays and watches Steve’s chest rise and fall steadily, mesmerized by the simple peace the blond’s presence seems to outpour. He’s become accustomed to waiting for the soft whistle that emerges from the boy across the room and finds that he cannot fall asleep without knowing that Steve is comfortably sleeping first.

 

Steve leans over Bucky’s bed, kissing the brunet on lips, whispering as he kisses at his jaw line and neck. “Happy Thanksgiving’s day…” He shifts his body and straddles Bucky’s hips, bearing down until Bucky opens his eyes.

He grabs Steve’s thighs and pulls him forward. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

The blond grins. “Wake up my handsome boyfriend.”

“Your tactics are crude.”

Steve bends down and kisses Bucky. “It worked, didn’t it?” He swings his leg over the side of the bed and hops off. “So, what are your plans for today? You never said what time you were going to your mom’s house.”

“We’re going over there for dinner. She wants us to be there by four. Dinner is at five.”

Hesitating, Steve stops at the doorway. “We?”

“Oh!” Bucky’s eyes widen in panic. “I-I forgot to tell you that she wants you to come. I mentioned that you didn’t have any place to go and she insisted that this was the best time to meet you.”

“Are you okay with this?”

Bucky scoots past Steve, heading to the bathroom. “It was kind of my idea… I hope you don’t mind. I just didn’t want you spending this holiday alone. You know, since you can’t afford to visit your gran in Maine. Family is important and, well, though mine is small it has a lot of love.”

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and squeezes him tight. “Thank you.” He smiles. “For that, I’m making breakfast. What do you want? We still have that pumpkin spice pancake mix if you’d like.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t know why Sam bought that in the first place. Fix whatever you can. As long as it isn’t that.”

Starting for the kitchen, Steve digs some eggs and a slab of bacon from the back of the fridge while Bucky showers. He serves up two plates and turns on the parade.

Within seconds of finishing breakfast, Steve is joined by a rather damp Bucky, who sits on the couch in his boxers, grabbing a plate of food from the coffee table.

“Is it just me or was this a lot more fun to watch when we were kids?”

Steve laughs, “Perhaps. I think it might have something to do with their choices of musical artists. I don’t know how enjoyable “PJ Rhymes” singing ‘Santa Baby’ would be even if I was five again.”

“That’s a good point. Plus,” Bucky glances at the clock. “it’s almost noon. The parade is always the most boring during the last thirty minutes.”

“Yeah…” Steve pushes his eggs around the plate and sets the dish down. “You know, I’m really nervous to meet your mom.”

Bucky smiles warmly at him. “She’s going to love you.” He pulls on Steve’s leg so that he turns to face him. “There is no better opportunity than this to meet my mom. Honestly, I’m excited for her to finally meet you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He grins. “And if she doesn’t like you, we’ll just put a little alcohol in the cider and she’ll LOVE you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You are no help at all.”

Bucky kisses him. “I don’t try to be.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning, this chapter gets a little heavy. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

After a shower and no less than thirty minutes of stressing over what to wear, Steve joins Bucky in the living room. He holds his arms out and turns around. “Well? What do you think?”

Bucky stands from his seat on the couch and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, kissing the blond on the nose. “You look great.” He smiles fondly at his boyfriend before returning to reality. “My mom lives three hours away. Typically I spend the night on Thanksgiving because I usually get home midnight or later. But it’s up to you if you want to stay or not.”

“Can we play it by ear? I just want to make sure she likes me before saying yes.” Steve laughs nervously, “Otherwise it’d be awkward…”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky nods. “Of course. But don’t worry so much.”

 

Three hours on the highway surprisingly feel like nothing. Especially when Bucky is there to keep entertainment up. After nearly two dozen I-Spy games, a twenty minute nap, and the arm busting slug bug challenge every half hour that woke Steve up, he and Bucky arrive at the latter’s childhood home in Brooklyn, 180 miles away from their campus in Albany.

Bucky’s mom greets her son at the front door with a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Three months is too long without my baby boy!”

Bucky blushes. “Mom… You’re so smothery today.”

She kisses him on the forehead. “I don’t care. I’ve missed you so much.” She lets go of her son and extends a hand to Steve. “Hi, I’m Charlotte Dugan. James here has told me all about you.”

He smiles and takes her hand. “Nice to meet you. I guess you already know that I’m Steve Rogers.”

She nods and pulls him in for a hug, lowering her voice so even Steve can barely hear her words. “Thank you for making my boy so happy.”

Steve is released from the grasp and he glances at Bucky, smiling at the grinning brunet. “It’s my honor.”

She invites them in and Steve notices how it smells like baking bread, even all the way down the hall in Bucky’s room. He sits on the old twin bed, shocked at how loud it creaks when he settles down.

Sighing heavily, Steve stares up at Bucky. “Everyone you know calls you James. Do you want me to as well?”

Bucky frowns. “Why would I want that? I told you before, I don’t even really like that name. Plus-” he sits beside Steve. “-it makes me feel special, you calling me Bucky.” He turns a little red. “As dumb as it sounds, I thoroughly enjoy having the most important person to me using a nickname no one else does.” He reddens further, looking down at his hands twisting the fabric of his shirt. “In all honesty, my heart skips a beat when I hear ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’ because I know it’s you calling my name.”

Steve stares in awe at Bucky, mouth opening to say something though no words come out. He laughs and pulls Bucky in for a kiss, turning his body so he can close the distance between them. He straddles the brunet and hugs him tight. “I don’t think anything in my life has made me as happy as you saying that.” He kisses Bucky again. “Thank you.”

Bucky snorts, “You don’t have to thank me.”

Twisting his hips and grinding against Bucky’s lap, Steve tilts his head to the side. “I don’t?”

Smirking, Bucky shrugs. “Maybe a little…” He pushes Steve onto the bed and grimaces at the noise. “How ‘bout when we get back to school.”

Steve sits up and nods. “Yeah that’ll attract attention.”

Bucky laughs and grabs Steve’s hand. “C’mon. Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes and I think I hear Tim at the door.”

“Tim?”

“Yeah. My mom remarried two years ago to his dad. I guess I forgot to mention him because he lives in Vermont and I never see him. He’s really only like a brother when we hang out.”

“Oh… So where’s his dad?”

“He’s a military man. With the Army. Guess my mom has a thing for soldiers. But anyway, he’s retiring next year, after he finishes up this tour. So right now he’s probably sleeping in Afghanistan.”

Steve takes a seat at the kitchen table while Bucky greets his step-brother, responding his thoughts to an empty room. “That’s rough…”

Bucky sits beside Steve and addresses the mustached man across from him, “Who’s this lovely lady you’ve brought with you?”

Tim grins at the redhead beside him. “This is my girl Poppy.” He holds up her hand. “As of today, she is my fiancé.”

Bucky’s mom enters the room shrieking happily. She rushes over to congratulate the two and interrogate them on why they didn’t start with that announcement.

Once the commotion has settled, Charlotte has her boys bring dinner to the dining room and the tired woman sits at the head of the table. She thanks Tim and Bucky before saying grace and trying to goad the table into stating what they’re thankful for. She spouts off with the traditional family spiel and nudges Bucky so he’ll start talking.

He sighs and sets down the half eaten dinner roll in his hand. “I’m thankful for a home to come to and a family to fill it.” Glancing at Steve, Bucky smiles. “And I’m thankful to have found someone that is kind, witty, and fun and is worthy of my mother’s good graces.”

Charlotte lifts her glass and hums an agreeable noise.

Steve rolls his eyes at his cheesy boyfriend but can’t help but blush at the comment. “I’m thankful for a boyfriend that’s such a pain he won’t take no for an answer and drags me to meet his incredible family.”

While the rest at the table laugh and Tim starts his speech, Bucky leans over and kisses Steve. When the statements are done, he lowers his voice, “I’m not _that_ much of a pain in the ass.”

Steve sets down his cup and whispers back, “How disappointing… I guess size isn’t _everything_.”

Bucky drops his fork and coughs violently, inciting worried glances from his mother while Steve attempts to keep his smirking to a minimum.

Walking to the kitchen to get more water, Steve finds that Bucky is right behind him. The brunet pins him to the sink and bends so that his lips are at Steve’s ear.

“You think you’re funny for a stunt like that, huh?”

Steve shrugs. “What stunt? I simply made a comment.”

“Don’t act so smug. I know what you’re doing.”

Grinning, Steve leans back into Bucky. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” Bucky steps back and lets Steve falter. “Tease all you want. There is no way I’m getting caught having sex by my mother and with that bed, we _would_ get caught.”

Steve groans and slumps back to his seat, bravado lost to Bucky’s common sense.

 

8:37 rolls around and Bucky stands from the couch in his mother’s living room. He stretches and yawns, “I think it’s time Steve and I hit the road.”

His mother looks confused. “I thought you were going to stay the night like normal.”

“I was, but Steve and I can’t both fit on the twin bed. Not to mention that Tim and Poppy need a place to sleep. So it just works out better this way.”

She sighs, “Alright.” Pulling their coats from the hall closet, Charlotte hugs Steve and Bucky goodbye. “Call me when you get home, okay? I don’t want to have to worry all night.”

Bucky nods as he steps out the door. “Of course. Love you. Bye.”

Steve climbs into the car and slides the seat all the way back, lying down.

Turning on the car, Bucky rapidly presses the heater button and stares at Steve while the vehicle warms up. “Are you cozy?”

“Not really.” He flips the seat back up and leans against the door frame. “This was nice. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“You know what the best part was?”

Bucky turns onto a main road and heads north for the highway. “What?”

“The baby pictures your mom showed me.”

“She did _not_ break out the old albums. I won’t believe my mother is _that_ embarrassing.”

Steve pulls his phone from his pocket and waits for a stoplight before showing Bucky the incriminating photo of the brunet, age 7, with pigtails in his hair. “Start believing.”

Groaning, Bucky pushes Steve’s hand away. “I refused to get a haircut that year. Flat out refused every time my mom brought it up. It got so bad that she resorted to humiliating tactics. She told me that if my hair was long enough to be in pigtails then I would have to wear it like that. Unfortunately for her, I liked how I looked in pigtails.”

Steve snickers and puts his phone away. “So what changed your mind?”

“Nothing. I never wanted to cut my hair, but my dad came home one after a four month tour and was pissed that she was letting me run around with cherry ponytail holders in my shoulder length hair.” Bucky sighs, “He shaved my head that night and proceeded to do so every month until I was thirteen.”

“That sounds a little harsh.”

Bucky shrugs. “It was but there was no way his son was going to look like a-” Bucky sighs again. “-faggot.”

“He told you that??”

“No. Never to my face. My mom on the other hand frequently received that speech. But she knew. I think she’s always known that I’m gay and that no amount of head shaving or baseball summer camps would change that.”

Steve softens his voice. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Shaking his head, Bucky forgoes the topic. “It’s old news… Not like it matters anymore. He’s gone.”

“How’d he die? Y-You’ve never told me.”

Bucky checks his mirrors and switches into the middle highway lane before speaking. “My dad had a lot of issues with PTSD. Some days were worse than others, like with most things, but he took medicine. He was prone to fits of rage and they always seemed random to us so we couldn’t ever be helpful. But the medicine, that _did_ help. Every few days he’d take a pill to curb the anxiety and that would usually prevent his outbursts. One day it didn’t.” Bucky hesitates to speak as he merges with the far right lane. “He took to the age old numbing mechanism, booze. We found him at a bar a few blocks from our place but he wouldn’t return home. My mom decided that we should leave but she dropped me off with the neighbor and went back to the bar. By the time she got there, so had the police. No one ever got the exact details, but I guess my dad had an episode and cracked a beer bottle over some guy’s head, which in his mind was self-defense. The man sustained minor injuries but his ego was too broken by the bottle for him to let it go. He challenged my dad to a fight. Fisticuffs, right?”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “My dad taught me to fight when I was fourteen. I was too small to really be threatening but at least he got to teach me the basics. My dad though, he was great. He was a boxer in college, before joining the army, which is why he shouldn’t have lost the fight. But like I said, broken ego. The piece of shit drew a knife on my dad and clipped the wrong vein.” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, white knuckling it as he continues. “There’s nothing satisfying about a guy going to jail for murder when it’s your father lying in the morgue. Nothing seems good enough. There’s no equivalent.”

Steve remains quiet for a few moments, letting the story sink in. He shakes his head. “Bucky… I’m so sorry.”

The brunet shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “All is said and done. It’s awful, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need to talk, I’m here…”

Bucky smiles softly at Steve and rubs his leg lovingly. “Thanks. But I promise, I’ve put that part of my life in the past. Even if it does seem like I’m still resentful.”

“Sometimes it's challenging to be completely free of resentment...”

With Bucky slipping into a self-imposed silence, Steve watches the highway lights, slowly being lulled to sleep by the motion in which they glide by.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fun one.

Steve jumps, heart pounding as he looks around rapidly, realizing that it was Bucky who was the source of the shaking.

“We have about thirty minutes of driving left.” He grins at Steve, who has an imprint on his cheek from the seat belt. “Have a nice nap?”

Stretching, Steve yawns, “Yeah, thanks.” He peeks out the window into the night, realizing there were very few cars on the street, even including themselves. “I assume traffic has been light for the past hour or so?”

Bucky stops at a red light, sitting alone in the turn lane. “What do you think?” He glances to his left, noting one dot of light in the distance, gradually getting closer. “It’s been a little dull not having to deal with people cutting you off.”

Steve rolls his eyes and leans against the frame of the car again. “You said thirty minutes?”

He gestures to the road. “Traffic willing.”

“Good. I can’t wait to be back in my own bed. Your car isn’t that comfortable for naps.”

“It’s not meant for those.” Bucky hits the gas the second the light turns green but a quarter of the way into the intersection, the vehicle begins to shudder. It shakes and screeches to a halt. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky turns the key over, attempting to restart the ignition. “I have no idea.”

Steve sits up. “Has it done this before?”

“Nope.”

“What are we going to do?”

Sighing, Bucky holds up his hand. “Just hold on. I can figure something out.” He takes his foot off of the gas and hits the break, changing the gears of the car before attempting to turn it on again. The eight year old car shudders violently and the engine revs before silencing with a tremor.

“Bucky…”

“Hold on.” He turns the key again, met with the same grinding sound.

“Buck…”

He’s lost most of his patience. “What?”

“That truck isn’t slowing down.”

“What?” Bucky glances out his driver’s side window and sees the once small lights growing ever closer. “Shit. SHIT.” He turns the key. “WORK DAMN IT.”

The ignition turns over and the engine grumbles to life. Bucky quickly puts it into gear and slams his foot into the gas pedal. They haven’t moved two feet before the truck collides with the side of their car. Glass shatters and metal crunches as the vehicle rolls, momentum relentless against the seemingly featherweight car.

Despite the shock, despite the fear, despite the bitter wind breaking through the fragmented glass, nothing chills Steve’s blood more than the sound of Bucky’s pained scream as the rolling finally comes to a standstill.

“S-S-Steve?” Bucky’s teeth chatter violently, his whole body shaking as he tries to reach out to Steve. It isn’t difficult, considering the position of the car. He lets his right arm drop with gravity so he can push his fingertips into Steve’s shoulder. “S-Steve…”

The blond groans, barely turning his head to look up at Bucky, his eyes bleary and his face spattered with cuts from the flying glass. “What… What happened?”

“T-The truck… It h-hit us.” Bucky takes an unsteady breath. “You okay?”

Steve flinches and slowly brings up his arm to touch his cheek. “What is that?” He glances at his finger and cringes as another drop of something hits his face. “Is something leaking?”

Bucky shakes his head and winces. “I’m sorry. That’s me.”

Steve wipes his face again and stares at his fingers. “Is that blood?”

“D-Don’t worry about it…” Another bead of blood rolls down Bucky’s neck, pooling at his jaw before dripping onto Steve’s temple. The brunet apologizes before reiterating the insignificance. “It’s no big deal…”

“But Bucky…” Steve swoons, his eyes widening, unfocused and confused. “What just happened?” He stares at Bucky. “Did we crash?”

“Steve, that truck hit us.”

The blond grabs for his phone. “That’s weird. I should call someone.”

“Shit. Are you okay? Steve?” Bucky tries to tug on Steve’s shirt to attract his attention, but the blond is unfazed.

“Did we crash? I should call someone.” He glances around wildly. “Where’s my phone? Did I drop it?”

Bucky closes his eyes, feeling the panic set into his chest. “Steve… It’s in your _hand_.”

He stares at Bucky, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Give me the phone.” Bucky reaches for Steve’s hand and immediately recoils, the pain in his shoulder intensifying. “Steve. Hand it here.”

“What?” Steve glances down at his own hand and sighs deeply. “I’m…” His words soften into silence and his eyes fall shut, head slumping against the mangled doorframe.

“Steve?” Bucky nudges the blond with his fingertips. “Steve!” He fully begins to panic, breath coming in shallow and sparse. Another twinge of pain bolts through his body and Bucky resigns to the situation. He can’t help the tears that take form at the corners of his eyes, a few for his agony and the rest for Steve as he realizes his passenger isn’t going to wake up. The weight of the situation and the hour of the night quickly settle in on Bucky’s exhaustion. He closes his eyes after the sight of his own blood amassing on the asphalt below begins to be too much. Fingertips still touching Steve’s shoulder, Bucky allows his lightheadedness to take over as he slips into sleep.

 

The first thing Bucky sees when he opens his eyes is an abundance of fluorescent lighting. He briefly wonders if he’s dead but the aching in his shoulder tells him otherwise. He slings his arm over his eyes and waits, unsure of what to do next. Slowly but surely, the faint beeping of a heart monitor grabs his attention. Looking up, he sees that he’s entirely hooked up to a hospital bed. So like any ordinary person, he hits the panic button.

A frazzled looking nurse waltzes into the room within five minutes, not much of an emergency trigger apparently. “Is there something wrong?”

“Umm, yeah. Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Intensive Care Unit.”

“Oookay…” Bucky tries to sit up but falls sideways, nearly falling over the left side of his bed. “What the fuck?”

“Please, language.”

He tears the blanket away and stares at his side, anxiety spiking as he notices the lack of limbs. Words dissipate on the tip of his tongue for what seems like eons before he can collect his thoughts about the situation. His volume exceeds even his own expectations, “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY ARM?!”

Rather than chastising him for his language again, the nurse takes a calmer approach. “You were in a car accident.”

“Yeah I _remember_ that.”

“When the paramedics got to you, your arm was stuck, crushed really, in the door frame.” She adopts an apologetic persona. “The surgeons tried everything they could to save your arm but the muscle, bone, even the nerve endings were essentially obliterated in the accident. I’m sorry.”

Bucky rubs his face, wiping away the tears that escaped without his consent. The nurse turns to leave but he remembers something more important. “Wait! Where’s Steve Rogers?”

She looks back at him, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Steven Rogers. He’s blond, 5’5”, about 120 pounds, if that. He was in the car with me. Where is he?”

“I’m not sure. I can look him up if you’d like?”

“ _Please._ ”

She leaves for a few minutes, returning with a small sheet of paper. “Steven Rogers, born July 4th?”

“Yes. That’s him.”

“It says that he’s in the neurology wing. Apparently there were some complications when he arrived so he was sent from the emergency room directly up there.”

Bucky feels his stomach churning, unwilling to imagine Steve in any worse condition than himself. “Can I see him?”

She gives him a puzzled look, baffled by his eagerness. “No less than four hours ago your arm was amputated. I can’t imagine that a doctor will consent to you going to a different wing to see your friend.”

His impatience bleeds through his words. “I’d rather talk to the doctor then. Since they won’t be imagining their professional opinions.”

She folds the paper up and gives him a forced smile. “Of course.”

Bucky waits impatiently for the doctor to arrive. After twenty minutes of finger tapping against the railing of his hospital bed, a tall man saunters into the room, holding a large clipboard.

He speaks without looking up from the chart in his hands. “James Barnes?”

“Yes.”

“The nurse said you want to visit another patient in this hospital.” He flips a page over, still skimming the paper. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He finally looks up at Bucky. “Why?”

“Well, the man that was in the car with me, he’s my best friend, more than that, actually. He’s my boyfriend.” Bucky pulls himself forward, struggling to sit up. “You see, he was acting strange after the crash, before he passed out. Couldn’t remember what had happened. He kept asking if we’d crashed. I’m so worried about him. I have to see him. I need to.”

The doctor sits in a nearby chair and crosses his legs. “I appreciate where you’re coming from, Mr. Barnes. But the thing is, you’re in the Intensive Care Unit. Few people are permitted to see you therefore you certainly are not allowed to go gallivanting across the hospital to see your boyfriend. I’ve talked to his doctor as well. Visiting would be futile. Your Steven Rogers is _still_ unconscious. When he wakes up is the question that the doctors in the neurology wing are trying to answer. While visiting hours are off, they are utilizing the time to figure this out. Until those hours resume, however, it would be a hassle to have you poking around when they’re performing tests.”

“A hassle?” Bucky grits his teeth. “A hassle is getting t-boned at midnight by some asshole in a giant truck. A hassle is getting your arm amputated when you didn’t even know the damage was _that_ severe. A _HASSLE_ is not being able to see your boyfriend because some doctor has a stick up his ass about _visiting hours_.”

The doctor stands, his calm demeanor unfaltering. “I understand your frustration, but I must remind you that it is barely past five in the morning. Visiting hours begin at eight. That is a much more ideal time for you to see him anyhow. Please, try to get some rest until then. I promise that we will set up time so that you are able to see him.”

Sighing, Bucky nods. “I guess that’s as good of a compromise I’ll get.”

The doctor smiles briefly at him before exiting and shutting the door behind him. Bucky reaches up and clicks off the overhead light before nestling down into his uncomfortable mattress, hoping he’ll be able to fall asleep so that the next three hours pass like a breeze.

 

Noticing that while he was asleep someone unhooked his IV, Bucky feels free to hobble toward the bathroom. He swings his legs over the bed and tries to get up, balancing himself against the closest wall. Unfortunately for him the closest wall is to his left and his left is missing. Stumbling over himself, Bucky lands flat on his face, plastered against the hospital linoleum. He groans and reaches into his robe pocket, happy that someone left the emergency button within reach.

A much perkier and pleasant nurse arrives quickly. She gasps lightly and helps Bucky to his feet and to the bathroom. He insists that she doesn’t have to wait outside while he pees, but she’s thorough at her job and waits to accompany him back to the bed when he’s finished.

He thanks her and she informs him that the doctor will be in momentarily. Bucky waits for nearly a half hour. Momentarily apparently means eventually.

“Good morning Mr. Barnes.” He tucks Bucky’s chart underneath his arm. “Are you ready to go see Steven Rogers?”

“You made the arrangements?”

“I told you I would. Now,” he steps aside and a nurse pushes in a wheelchair. “-it’s time to go.”

Officially, Bucky is bitter about having to be wheeled around like an invalid. It’s not like they took off his leg or something. Unofficially, he’s stoked that he doesn’t actually have to take the elevator up three floors and walk across two halls. He’s still tired from the stress of the night before. The nurse parks him outside of a hospital room and begins to speak to another nurse at the main station. Bucky grows impatient and rises from the wheelchair in order to search for Steve.

He doesn’t get very far before he finds the blond’s room. Bucky steps in carefully and shuts the door behind him. He drags a chair over to Steve’s bed and sits beside the serene looking man. Stretching his arm out, he brushes his thumb over Steve’s cheek, unsettled by the amount of bruising that’s present on his skin.

“I’m so sorry…” He lifts Steve’s hand and kisses it. “This is all my fault…” His lower lip begins to tremble. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you don’t wake up…”

The door swings open and in walks a woman, confused at Bucky’s presence. “Who are you?”

“I’m B-James. Barnes.”

“You’re not my patient.”

Bucky shakes his head. “N-no, but my boyfriend is. We were both in the same accident and I wanted to see him.”

She nods. “I see.”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong with him? He was so confused in the car and his eyes wouldn’t focus. He kept asking if we’d crashed. I don’t know if that helps, but I’d really like to know if there’s anything that I can do.”

The doctor purses her lips and sighs. “It sounds like he has a severe concussion. We assumed that already due to the tests but what you said about his behavior before he lost consciousness confirms it.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Unfortunately it means we cannot do anything for him. His brain was essentially rattled in the crash and it’s simply mending itself at this time. He’ll wake when his body is up for it.” She grabs his chart. “Fortunately, the scans show us that while the concussion was severe, he did not sustain any permanent damage.”

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s great.”

“Yes, it is.” She opens the door. “I’m sorry, I have to ask you to leave now. Our nurses will inform yours when he has woken up.”

Begrudgingly, Bucky returns to his nurse at the station and drops himself in the wheel chair. The middle aged man looks down at Bucky, confused, as if he didn’t realize the brunet had even left. He finishes flirting with the young lady nurse behind the reception desk and eventually wheels his patient back to the elevator, only after receiving the girl’s phone number with much persistence.

Back in his own hospital bed, Bucky attempts to fall asleep, but the thought of Steve still being unconscious plagues him. Despite the doctor’s reassuring words about his boyfriend’s health, Bucky’s mind keeps leaping to worst case scenarios.

What if Steve doesn’t come out of this? What if he’s in a coma? What if he dies? Or worse, what if he loses his memories? Could Bucky really handle an amnesiac boyfriend?

A new nurse comes in and sets a tray of food on the wheeling table beside the bed. She smiles politely and explains that he needs to eat in order to take the pain medication the doctor provided. She exits after stating that the eight hour pain relief shot would soon be wearing off and his amputation site will be very sore if he doesn’t keep up on the medicine.

Bucky sighs and stares at his shoulder, wondering if his insurance through the school would cover any of this. He sure doesn’t have the money. With another exasperated sigh, Bucky picks up his fork and stabs at the food in front of him, apathetically eating the less than appealing breakfast.

 

The pain killers knock Bucky unconscious no more than thirty minutes after absorbing into his system. He falls into a deep sleep, soundly napping until the doctor comes in to disturb him with needles once again. Three shots, with fancy names so that patients will have no idea what they’re receiving, are forced into his bloodstream.

The entry point hurts and Bucky would rub at it for comfort, if he could. The first few hours of singled handed-ness didn’t seem too awful, likely because he was worried about Steve. Now, however, Bucky’s starting to realize how miserable he might end up being without his left limb.

Scratching certain parts is out of the question. He can’t even reach everywhere with just one hand. Showering is going to be a bitch. Not to mention washing one hand. Typing? Goodbye lessons learned in 5th grade, hello chicken pecking once again. All the little things he won’t be able to do anymore flood Bucky subconscious and he begins to panic, wondering if his life will ever be normal again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been hit with the common cold but I dragged myself out of bed to update. Figured it was the least I could do after last week's chapter. :)

Noon rolls around before there are any more disturbances. A nurse hauls in lunch and checks his vitals. She nods happily before walking out and writing something on the board outside. He stares at his food, less than hungry for an unappealing display of meatloaf and likely reconstituted potatoes.

His negative thoughts about the food are interrupted by an older man knocking on his door. The man, dressed in a suit unlike the doctors, approaches Bucky with three pieces of paper in hand.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes. I’m Doctor Zola. I have been made aware of your situation.” He pulls up a chair. “You see, I am the one they call when people need fitting for a limb replacement.”

“You’re the prosthetics man?”

“Precisely.” He hands Bucky the two fliers. “We checked your insurance and these are what you can choose from.” He points to the first paper. “This is the typical prosthetic. Rather than attaching, it sits tightly to your body thanks to the straps that would run across your chest and opposite shoulder. This is the typical option, though your mobility would be limited in comparison. The second option is quite new. Only very recently has it been presented for the general public, being that it is the newest addition to the line of robotic limbs. It attaches directly to your body. We would create a permanent attachment point over where your shoulder is and essentially mount it there, though you will be able to move it around much like a normal shoulder due to the ball and socket concept. It is the highest tech on the line of prosthetics. Where the other would be in place of your arm, this one can replace it wholly!”

A nurse interrupts by clearing her throat. “Mr. Barnes. When you’re done with Doctor Zola, Steven Rogers is awake.”

Filled with relief, Bucky listens to the rest of Zola’s explanation for the prosthetics and has only one question at the end of his lecture. “Do they cost the same?”

“In essence, it does not matter what you choose, insurance will cover it completely.”

With that answer, Bucky fills out a requisition form and thanks the doctor before hurrying to the nurses’ station to beg for a wheelchair to the neurological wing.

The nurse from earlier agrees, but he insists on finishing his lunch first. Bucky never thought someone could eat a turkey sandwich so slowly.

Once again, he stops at the reception desk to flirt with the young nurses behind the counter so this time Bucky doesn’t hesitate to set off for Steve’s hospital room.

The blond sits up when he sees Bucky in the doorway. He grins and reaches up to flatten his unkempt hair. “Hey Buck…”

Noting the sleep still lingering in Steve’s voice, Bucky forgoes his greeting and saddles up beside the bed in order to give his boyfriend a kiss.

“I hear I’ve been sleeping a while.” Steve throws back his blanket and turns so that he can face Bucky, now sitting in the doctor’s chair, wheeled as close to Steve’s bed as possible.

Letting out a nervous laugh, Bucky nods. “You had me scared. I woke up and didn’t know what happened to you.” He bites his lip and exhales heavily. “For a while I didn’t even know if you _were_ going to wake up.”

Steve rubs the sleep out of his eyes and smiles gently at Bucky. “But everything is fine now. We made it out okay.”

“Almost.”

“What?”

Bucky reaches behind his back and unsnaps the hospital gown, letting it fall from his shoulders. “Not all of me made it out of the crash…”

Staring blankly at Bucky’s severed shoulder, Steve mouths something, unable to actually articulate the words swarming in his head.

“Steve?”

“I-I can’t believe…” He reaches out to touch Bucky but flinches back. “I’m sorry, does it hurt? I don’t want to-”

“Stop worrying… Yeah it hurts but I’m pretty sure you’re not going to violently poke me. So no big deal.” Bucky sighs and stares at his vacant left side. “It is no big deal right?” He doesn’t wait for Steve’s answer, instead he pulls the gown back up, struggling to connect the snaps again. He groans and turns the chair around. “Do you mind buttoning it?”

Steve slides his hand down Bucky’s chest and picks up the material, pulling it back up slowly. He brushes his fingers against Bucky’s neck, sending a shiver down the brunet’s spine. Bucky catches his breath, shutting his eyes as Steve leans down and kisses his shoulder. “I don’t mind at all.”

“You don’t?”

Steve hums against Bucky’s skin, “Nope.”

“You won’t mind a prosthetic then?”

Sitting up, Steve nudges the chair with his foot, spinning Bucky to face him again. “Prosthetic? Already?”

Bucky nods. “Well yeah. My insurance covers it and apparently the best time to be fitted is not long after the amputation…” The last word falls off his lips like a brick through a window. He tries to look at the bright side. “They gave me a few options.”

“Yeah? What did you choose?”

Pulling a pamphlet from the doctor out of his gown’s pocket, Bucky shows Steve the picture. “It’s really cool actually, the science behind it. They put a mount for the arm over my shoulder.” He cringes. “That part sounds painful because they have to bolt it into the bone.”

Steve’s eyes widen but Bucky cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry! They know what they’re doing… After that, they do this weird procedure where the arm is essentially synced up to my nerves. It’s not 100% like your own limb, but it’s better than nothing. They promise it’s not painful and that I’ll be able to have at least a little sensation of what I’m touching and what’s around me.”

“I don’t know Buck…” He stares at the picture. “Is a robotic arm worth the trouble? How long is it going to take anyway?”

“Doctor Zola said this is the best option and since I can afford it, I’m going to trust he knows what he’s doing. The only problem is because it takes more effort to build, I have to wait between three to six weeks for it to be ready.”

Steve smiles. “You don't have to worry about what you want for the holidays now. You could have a new arm for Christmas!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I guess I could, but let’s keep the worry focused on passing finals first, alright?”

  
  


Upon being discharged that evening, Steve hangs around Bucky’s room. He ends up sleeping on the pull out couch over night while waiting for Bucky to be free of the hospital’s restraints as well. He’s discharged in the morning and the two of them are pointed in the direction of the police station a mile away.

After giving their statement about the crash and picking up what was salvaged from the accident, Bucky and Steve take their broken phones and a car jack back to the dorm via the subway.

Sam gives the two of them an earful when they arrive home, insisting that the hospitals allow patients to use phones. “I’ve been so _worried_. You could have called!”

Steve sighs. “Sam, for the last time. Our phones were pulverized in the crash and neither of us thought to call anyone when we were being poked by nurses with needles every few hours. We’re sorry for making you worry but that’s now in the past. So _please_ would you take us to the store so we can get replacement cells?”

Squinting at Steve, Sam barrels toward the blond, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He pulls Bucky into the hug as well. “I don’t know what I would have done without you two.” Letting go of his roommates, Sam grabs his keys. “Let’s get you back into the digital world.”

 

That night, armed with a new cell phone and a lot of courage, Bucky calls his mother. Steve lays on his bed, attempting to read. Ultimately, he finds himself listening into the phone conversation. From what he can make out, Bucky’s mom called numerous times and has been horribly stressed since they left Thursday night and didn’t call.

Steve flinches into his comforter when Bucky admits that they got into an accident and his mother shrieks on the other end of the phone with a few expletives. The panicky brunet does his best to explain that the car had issues and it wasn’t really his fault considering the light was green the entire time. The loud chastising continues, even after Bucky lowers the volume, enduring the dissatisfaction of his mother’s lecture.

Eventually he calms her down to the point that she apologizes for her outburst and begins sobbing, admitting that she’s simply happy that he made it out safely. Bucky nearly clams up as he gingerly admits what happened to his left arm.

Steve doesn’t breath for a few seconds, listening to the absolute silence on the other end of the line. Bucky’s expression is as anxious as Steve feels just listening to the quiet. His mother talks slowly when she finally speaks again. Bucky nods slowly and winces at something she said but the volume is now too low for Steve to even slightly hear what his mother is saying. The brunet ends the call and sets his phone on the nightstand.

Steve sits up, dropping off of the bed to join Bucky. “Is everything okay?”

“She’s coming to visit…” Bucky glances at Steve. “She wants to stay to help until the prosthetic operation can go through.”

“Buck… That’s at least three weeks. There’s not enough room for her to stay comfortably here for one night, let alone nearly a month!”

Bucky sigh, “We just have to convince her that it isn’t a good ide- what are you doing with my phone?”

Hitting redial, Steve retreats to his bed as Bucky’s mother answers the phone.

“Hello, Mrs. Dugan? Your son mentioned that you were planning on helping around here for the next few weeks.” He listens to her reasoning that he _is_ her son after all. “Yes, I understand that, but you have a job. People need you to do your job. I’m sure you wouldn’t want your fifth grade students to miss their teacher just before school lets out for break!” He nods to her words but speaks up quickly. “I understand that but Bucky’s strong. He can do a lot on his own. Whatever he can’t, Sam and I will help him with. If it makes you feel better, I can convince him to participate in more video calls with you.”

Bucky shoots him a scowl but Steve is already grinning. “Wonderful. I knew you were a reasonable woman. Thank you so much Mrs. Dugan. Yes I’ll tell him that. Alright. Bye.” Steve tosses Bucky’s phone onto the latter’s bed and smirks. “Your momma loves you.”

“What did you do?”

“I just reassured her that you’ll be fine on your own and that you’ll video chat at least once every ten days.”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky resigns his frustration. “I guess that’s better than her taking over our dorm.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. At least now she won’t be ashamed of how many shirts you toss around the room.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You don’t like the shirt situation? Fine. I’ll collect my shirts and put them away nicely, but you have to relinquish the one you’re wearing now.”

Steve purses his lips and stares at Bucky’s American flag tank draped over his much smaller frame. “You know, I think you’re right. It does give our room a unique look.”

The brunet grins and rolls his eyes. “You might be the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Perhaps, but you don’t hate me yet.” Steve slides underneath his blanket and cuddles up the pillow. “Goodnight.”

After struggling to plug his phone in, Bucky tucks into bed, a calm settling over him as Steve’s deep sleep noises fill the silent night air. “No. I just love you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting NSFW up in here...

The next morning, Steve wakes up to see Bucky hurrying into the bathroom. He glances at the clock, wondering why the brunet is in such an urgent mood. Sundays are do-nothing days.

He wanders out to the living room to see Sam hunched over and nursing a cup of coffee. “Rough morning?”

“You’d think that everything would be leisurely at 9:27…” He shakes his head. “Barnes’ mom apparently told his grandmother what happened and like it or not, at 8:45 she called to tell us she was on her way over for a visit with her grandson and his college buddies.”

Steve groans and pulls the orange juice from the fridge, pouring a glass as he tries to understand the situation. “So we managed to keep his mom from running the roost but his grandmother decides to up and visit?”

“James said that it was just going to be for today, but that’s not his problem. He’s been running back and forth trying to get this place to look like a safe haven. Apparently Nana Barnes thinks that college is a hotbed of sin.” Sam laughs into his cup and takes a long drink. “This might be fun.”

A scream trailed by a half dozen swears interrupts their conversation and Steve dashes for the bathroom. He throws open the door and stops when he hears sniffling. Quietly stepping toward the curtain, Steve peeks around and finds Bucky slumped on the shower floor, being pelted by the water coming down at top speed. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky glances up at Steve, the tears in his eyes being washed away instantly. “No…”

“Buck… What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do it.” He stares at his left side. “I can’t do _anything_.” Shoving his right hand in his hair, he pulls at the sopping wet mess. “I can’t even wash my own fucking hair and I _definitely_ couldn’t catch myself when I started to slip.”

Steve pulls the curtain open a little more. “Do you need help?”

“I’m naked.”

Suppressing a laugh, Steve nods. “I see that.” He steps back and pulls his shirt over his head, repeating the question. “Do you need help?”

“You’d help me wash?” He frowns. “Isn’t that a little intimate?”

Steve stops with his pajama bottoms around his knees. “I don’t have to help if you don’t want.”

“No, no. I do… I want your help.” He stares as Steve strips off the rest of his clothes and steps into the shower. He continues to stare as the blond reaches down to hoist him up, acting a bit slow and unresponsive as he registers what Steve’s really offering to do for him.

Steve shuts the curtain and grabs the bottle of shampoo from the floor. “Lean your head back.”

Bucky does as he’s told and closes his eyes as Steve begins scrubbing gently at his hair. “Thank you… There’s not many people who would do this for someone who’s only been their boyfriend for, what, three months?”

“Three months this Tuesday.” Steve pulls the shower head from its mount and begins rinsing the soap from Bucky’s hair. He puts it back and grabs the nearest luffa and bar of Irish Spring.

Bucky tenses slightly as Steve gently brushes over his shoulder, realizing it was silly because there was no way Steve would hurt him. The blond scrubs away at Bucky’s skin, reaching all the areas Bucky himself couldn’t. He kneels down and washes the brunet’s feet and legs, making Bucky giggle as his toes are made sudsy.

Steve laughs and stands up, kissing Bucky’s cheek from behind him and wrapping his arms around his chest, absentmindedly scrubbing slowly as he holds the brunet.

Prying himself from Steve’s grasp, Bucky turns to face the blond, kissing him properly. “You’re the best anyone could ever ask for.”

Smiling, Steve tosses the luffa aside and wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck, standing on his tiptoes to fully reach the latter’s lips. “I guess I just have good motivation to make you happy.”

Bucky frowns. “What’s your motivation to make me happy?”

“To see you happy.” Steve shrugs and reaches for the faucet. “I don’t need another reason.”

Stopping the blond’s hand from shutting off the water, Bucky backs Steve into the corner of the shower. “You _must_ have an ulterior motive. No one is just that nice for no reason.”

Steve rolls his eyes and laughs. “You got me Buck. I just wanted to see your dick.” He slides to his knees. “Fuck me.” He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, watching Bucky assess the situation with careful eyes.

“Are you… kidding?”

Steve shrugs and grins, readjusting his legs underneath him to sit comfortably. “I’m down here already, so if you want it-” he licks his lips. “-give it to me.” He waits patiently for a response but takes matters into his own hands when the brunet continues to be baffled by his sudden display of affection.

Bucky gasps, body tensing as Steve slips his hands up the back of his thighs. He holds his breath when Steve leans forward, kissing his hips and nipping at the soft skin at his waist.

Caressing his fingers over the small of Bucky’s back, Steve speaks softly, barely being heard over the water hitting the shower’s porcelain floor. “Relax…” He slides his left hand down Bucky’s stomach, taking ahold of the semi-hard cock in front of his face. “I’m here to make you feel good…”

He lifts his lips to Bucky’s tip and brushes his tongue over the slit, eliciting a soft moan from the man towering over him. Kissing down the length of Bucky’s cock, Steve licks his way back to the head. He sucks at the ridge and dips his head forward, taking more of his boyfriend into his mouth.

Bucky’s jaw hangs open as he stares down at the hollowed cheeks and wet lips systematically sliding up and down his erection. He stifles a moan, letting his head fall against the shower wall. As Steve’s hands wander, Bucky can’t hold his voice silent much longer.

Slipping a finger between Bucky’s legs, Steve rubs the brunet’s rim in time with the bobs of his head. He pulls off for a moment, licking his lips before returning to the desperately throbbing member in front of his face. Changing his angle, Steve steadies himself as Bucky’s cock hits the back of his throat. He ignores his reflex and swirls his tongue, happy with the pleasured sounds filtering out of Bucky’s mouth.

Prodding more at the muscle, Steve presses his finger in and reflexively Bucky twitches in his mouth. A heavy hand lands on Steve’s head, grabbing a fist full of wet hair and wrenching Steve away.

Lips trembling, Bucky’s voice cracks over his words. “I _need_ to thrust.”

Steve shrugs. “Go ahead.” Tilting his head back, Steve opens his mouth, positioning himself in front of Bucky’s now dripping cock.

Taking as much of Bucky into his mouth as he can, Steve drops his hands to his own arousal as Bucky assumes control. The grip in Steve’s hair tightens with each thrust and praises mingle with the steam from the shower. Faltering, Bucky bites his lip and takes in a sharp breath, exhaling Steve’s name as he comes, pulling out as he does.

Hand still wrapped tightly around his own cock, Steve stares at his boyfriend with a satisfied grin on his face. “Would you kiss a slut with your cum on his chin?”

Still catching his breath, Bucky leans against the wall and shakes his head. “Rogers, you are a lot dirtier than people take you for.”

“Proud of it.” He glances down and thumbs his own slit. “Can I come now?”

“Who said you couldn’t?”

“No one. I just figured it was rude to orgasm in the middle of a conversation.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and beckons Steve to his feet, pinning the blond to wall with his own body. “How about you rub that one out with me?” He grinds against Steve and kisses his neck. “I’d let you fuck me here and now if I could.”

Steve comes as soon as Bucky feels him up. He lets out a shaky breath, almost apologizing for the mess he just made all over Bucky’s clean body. “Why c-can’t you?”

Rinsing off his stomach, Bucky steps outside of the shower and grabs a towel, tying it around his waist. “My gran is going to be here soon. Don’t want both of us exiting the shower with her around. She, uh, doesn’t actually know that I’m gay…”

Following suit, Steve washes his face, shuts off the water, and takes the other towel. “You haven’t told her?”

“Don’t judge. She’s just… Old and conservative. I’d rather never tell her than be rejected.”

“I’m not judging, I just-”

Bucky opens the door and stops dead in his tracks. Steve doesn’t react fast enough and runs into the back of him, nearly sending both of them toppling to the floor.

Regaining his balance and gripping his towel tighter, Bucky half screams his disbelief, “GRAN! What are you doing here so early? I thought you were going to get here at 10:30.” Glancing back at the bathroom clock, Bucky tries salvage his composure and seem chipper. “It’s only 10:02...”

The short, gray haired woman sets down her massive purse and smiles happily at Bucky, despite the pink lipstick plastered to her front teeth. “Traffic was quick today!” She pulls her grandson into a hug and pats his head. “How’s my Jim doing?”

“Great, Gran… I mean. I’m as good as I can be after what happened.”

She nods grimly. “I see you at least managed to shower. Even if you are an invalid, it was just decent human behavior to smell nice. I always told your grandpa that.”

Hesitant of what to say, Bucky laughs uncomfortably.

Unnerved by the awkward situation, Steve tries to quietly squeeze past Bucky and hurry into their room. He fails miserably.

“Who is that?”

Steve freezes behind Bucky and lets out a tired sigh before reappearing on the other side of his boyfriend, waving awkwardly. “Hi… I’m Steve.”

She frowns slightly. “Steve? Steve… Oh! Steve! You’re the gentleman that Charlotte mentioned. She said you were just the sweetest thing.”

Bucky nudges Steve and grins. “Told you she liked you.”

Steve blushes. “That’s awfully nice of her.”

“You’re Jim’s best friend?”

Bewildered, Steve’s sense fails him. “Uh… Jim…”

Nudging him again, Bucky discreetly points to himself.

“Jim! James! Yeah! He _is_ my best friend.”

The older woman smiles. “Wonderful. I’m Liza Barnes, his father’s mother.” She glances down, smile fading upon noticing the mere towels covering the young men. “Well, I’ll let you two dress.”

Closing the door behind himself, Bucky sighs, “I’m sorry.” He grabs his clothes and shakes his head. “I thought I was going to have more time to explain. My gran is a wonderful woman, especially if you only meet her briefly.”

Steve plucks one of Bucky’s sweaters from the floor and tugs it on. “So what you’re telling me is that she’s not all smiles and sunshine?” He takes Bucky’s shirt and holds it up, allowing the brunet to slip it on with ease.

“I told you earlier that she’s conservative. Well she’s also stubborn and opinionated so please,” He pulls Steve close and kisses him. “prepare for the worst and don’t hate me for subjecting you to whatever she may throw our way.” He haphazardly yanks his jeans up, running out of breath as he gets them on.

Steve grabs Bucky’s belt loops and straightens the horribly crooked denim before moving to open the door. He laughs, “I’ll try not to despise you at the end of all this.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of a chapter last week. School had become overwhelming. It yet again ate up my Tuesday this week, but with much of my stressful work in the clear, I actually had time to write today. So, although it's a day late, I hope you can forgive me and enjoy this chapter. :)

“What do you mean you don’t have oolong tea? Jim loves that tea.”

Sam sighs, still standing in the corner of the kitchen. “Ma’am-”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t talk back either. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

Bucky panics. “Whoa! Gran, I can go get you some if you like. We _just_ ran out of it. It’s been so cold lately that we’ve been brewing it more often.” He shoos Sam out of the way, whispering when he passes. “Get out while you still can.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He changes in his room and rushes out the door, keys and shoes tucked into one hand.

Mrs. Barnes watches Sam leave the dorm and waits for his complete exit before she resumes speaking. “No need to make a special trip for me. But I would like to know something.”

Readying himself for the inevitable, Bucky tenses. “Sure.”

She sits forward. “When I arrived, both of you were coming out of the bathroom. Is it normal for you two to shower at the same time? Is that a new thing eco-friendly people are doing?”

Steve shrinks back as she stares at him. He waits for Bucky to answer.

She quickly grows impatient, “Is no one going to answer?”

“Well, Gran, you see, I was having trouble. Only having one arm causes problems when you’re trying to wash your hair. Steve was only in there to help me.”

“So he was just being a good friend.” The question sounded more like a statement of distain rather than an actual query.

Bucky glances at Steve and suppresses a smirk. “He was being the _best_ kind of friend.”

She nods, ignoring Bucky’s snickers, and scans the room. “It’s so dismal in here. I was thinking it might be best if we got out for the day. Would you mind, Jim?”

“No! Of course not. That would be great. I’ll just grab my shoes and we can go somewhere.” He stops after standing. “Is Steve invited?”

Liza stares at Steve for a few seconds, obviously judging him silently, before replying. “I’m afraid not. We have some serious matters to discuss that I would rather not speak of in front of your fleeting friends. You never know how well a person can keep secrets these days.”

Bucky tries to brush off the insult. “Oh, well alright.”

Steve, feeling incredibly awkward, escapes the conversation and takes sanctuary in their room, being visited by Bucky as he’s about to leave.

“I’m so sorry about what she said.”

He shrugs. “I took no offense. She doesn’t know me.”

Bucky sighs, “She can’t if she doesn’t give you a chance.”

“Look, Buck, to her I’m just your friend. There’s no reason to include me on bonding trips because no one does that with their family’s friends. Don’t even worry. Have fun with her and just come back to me sane enough for a goodnight kiss, okay?”

Smiling, Bucky nods. “I think that’s a promise I can keep.”

 

Three hours later, Bucky returns home from a French café. The lingering tobacco smoke clings to his clothes as he hurriedly tears them off and tosses them in his hamper.

Steve glances up from his book and sets it aside, scooting to the edge of the bed. “So? How did it go?”

Bucky grits his teeth. “ _You’re_ a shameless queer using my misfortune to try and force your homosexuality on me. Sam shouldn’t be trusted with an attitude like that. Don’t even mention that he’s _black_!” He throws his hand in the air and waves it dramatically. “I need to request a room with model citizens like that-” He sneers, spitting his words, “-that Brock fellow from high school.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but bites his tongue when Bucky continues.

“I can’t believe her! The _audacity_ she has!” He heaves a pillow at the wall. “She’s unreasonable!”

Steve cautiously reaches out and grabs Bucky’s hand. “Shh… I know family is frustrating. Getting worked up won’t help anything.”

Bucky tears his hand away. “What would you know.”

Shaking his head, Steve retains his composure, “When my mom died I was sent to live with _my_ grandmother. I came out to her when I was sixteen and she told me that bisexuality was a phase. She told me that I’d grow out of it and learn to love a woman properly. So _yeah_. I know how family can be.”

The sharpness of Steve’s words deflate Bucky’s anger. He sighs and sits next to the blond, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have been so ignorant.”

Steve weaves his fingers between Bucky’s and lifts his hand, kissing the brunet’s. “I forgive you. Want to talk- calmly- about what happened today?”

Bucky lays back on the bed. “It started out nice. We talked about Tim and the engagement as well as what we plan to do for Christmas. She spends the holidays with my mom and I since my dad died because my aunt lives in Washington state and we’re all she has. But anyway, things were even fine as the topics started to focus on me and school. We talked a long time about my technically undecided major and all the things I could do with the basic business degree that I’ll have earned in the spring. It was going so well… but everything fell to shit the second I passingly mentioned you.”

“Why?”

“That’s when she went on that tirade about you trying to rub your homosexuality all over me.”

Steve’s mouth twists as he tries to speak and suppress his laughter. “Did she phrase it like that?”

Bucky snickers, “Yeah she did. I choked on my drink.” He sighs, “The problem is, she doesn’t like gay people. At the same time, she has no clue on who’s gay and who isn’t. She literally saw me naked with you but the fact that I barely insinuated that the shower was your idea in the first place gave her the impression that you are the only, and I quote, rainbowy homo, in the house.”

Steve giggles, “Rainbowy homo?”

“Her tone was rude.”

“Still… It’s kind of cute.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky pulls at Steve until he too is lying down. “I’m just over it now. I can’t dwell on it. That won’t change anything and it’ll only make me mad.”

“Exactly.” Steve traces Bucky’s clavicle with a light finger and kisses at his neck. “So are you free for the rest of the day?”

“Are you trying to insinuate that we do something my gran would greatly disapprove of?”

Grinning, Steve shifts so that his right leg is between both of Bucky’s. “I think I am…”

Leaning down to kiss Steve, Bucky is interrupted when Sam throws their bedroom door open. He grumbles, “What?”

“You left your phone in the kitchen.” He holds it out. “It was ringing. I figured if someone were trying to contact you, it’d be important.”

Squinting at Sam, Bucky frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How many friends do you have?”

Bucky scrambles off the bed and snatches the phone from Sam. “Plenty…” He glances down, reading the number. “It’s the hospital…”

Steve moves closer so he can look over his shoulder. “Did they leave a message?”

“Yeah. Let me check voicemail.” Bucky punches in his security code and waits for the message to begin playing. He grins halfway through. “Apparently they can get the prosthetic done in two weeks…” He lets the voicemail come to an end before continuing. “They want me to call back to set up my surgery.”

Sam congratulates Bucky and pokes him in the ribs, causing the brunet to curl up in reflex. “I’m going to have to take advantage of that as often as I can until you can fight back with your robotic arm.” He laughs. “You’re gonna look damn cool.”

“Yeah… I know.”

Bucky quietly returns to Steve’s bed and Sam takes that as his cue to exit, leaving Steve alone with his suddenly melancholy boyfriend.

“Hey Buck?”

“Hmm?”

Sitting beside Bucky, the blond gently touches his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking his head, Bucky sighs, “It’s nothing.” He gives a weak smile. “I promise.”

“C’mon, Buck.” Steve nudges his knee. “I know you better than that. You can tell me.”

“Alright…” He lets silence fill the air, waiting a few moments before speaking. “I’m afraid. Terrified. What if something goes wrong?”

“They’re _professionals_. They know how to handle this and most other situations. You’ve met them. They’re good people that _know_ what they’re doing.”

“Will you come with me?”

Steve smiles, nodding. “Of course I will. I want to be the first thing you touch with your new hand.” The smile fades and Steve stares at the bed, a bit embarrassed at his immediate reaction. “That sounded less raunchy in my head.”

Bucky laughs, “I can tell.” He leans forward and plants a kiss on Steve’s lips, frowning as he pulls away, remembering something. “I’m sorry.”

“For what…?”

He gives Steve an apologetic smile. “I kind of told my mom that I’d only go to dinner with her and my gran this weekend if you came with us…”

Steve sits up and tilts back, out of Bucky’s kissing range. “I thought you said your grandma considers me a shameless queer.”

“Oh, she does, absolutely. But that title really belongs to me so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve stands up. “You’re gonna owe me.”

Bucky grins. “Don’t worry. I have a thousand ways I could pay it back.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we're living up to that M rating.

The week back to school after vacation is dreadfully slow. Monday lasts a millennium, Tuesday stretches on for miles despite the special occasion for Steve and Bucky, and even P.R.I.D.E. can’t pick up the glee for Thursday. Friday becomes a safe haven of an awful week.

Bucky lounges on the couch, his right hand slung over his stomach as he stares at the ceiling, simply enjoying the day off. Steve sits across from him, curled up in the recliner, focused eyes darting across the television screen as he battles a boss from his new video game. Sam lays on the floor, beer wobbling precariously in one hand and a magazine strewn across his forehead as he naps silently.

“Hey Steve?” Bucky cranes his neck to look at his concentrated boyfriend. “Steeeve.”

The blond rapidly presses a button on the controller and begins grinning wildly. “YES!! TAKE THAT YOU ASSHOLE!”

Sam sits up suddenly, startled by Steve’s shouting, and spills his beer. “Aw, shit.” He tips the bottle back up and sets it on the coffee table before fetching a towel from the bathroom. “What game is he playing?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he’s too busy trying to get Steve to pause the game and notice him. “Rogers. Steve. Steven. Steeeve. SGR. Stevie.”

“What?”

Ignoring Steve’s snippy response, Bucky calls out to Sam. “Hey you still have that date tonight?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I got plans.”

Sam reappears in the living room and drops the towel, stepping it into the half absorbed puddle of beer. “What kind of plans?”

Bucky glances at Steve and lowers his voice. “The kind of plans that I don’t need you around to see or hear.”

Nodding, Sam smirks. “Ah, I get what you mean. You’re gonna try to get laid.”

Steve punches away at his buttons and stares at the screen but manages to voice a question in Sam’s direction. “Who’s gonna get laid?”

“Nobody but most of the student population on campus.” He picks up the towel. “You know how Friday nights are. Everybody needs lovin’ at the end of a tough week.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve mumbles. “Sure they do.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t want to get it in.”

Steve glances at Bucky and blushes. “To be honest, I didn’t think about it until you brought it up.”

“Alright then. Do you now?” Sam leans against the kitchen counter and waits. “Hmm?”

Blushing even harder, Steve shrugs. “I don’t know… I guess so…”

Sam rolls the towel up and throws it at Steve’s head. “You dork. Of course you do. When was the last time you got into someone’s pants?”

“What is this? Steve’s personal hour? Why don’t _you_ answer that first?”

Sam grins. “Yesterday. Your turn.”

“Seriously?” Steve grumbles his answer quietly, “Srvr mrths.”

“Huh? What did you say? Come on Steve. James will answer.”

The brunet frowns at Sam, answering with a bitter tone, “It’s been a year.”

“Ouch. My bad. Sorry, man.”

Steve shrugs. “That’s only five months longer than me. And mine was just because of a one night stand.” Steve shudders. “I actually _wish_ I could have avoided that catastrophe.” He turns his attention back to his video game.

Sam steps in front of the TV. “Tell us about this ordeal.”

Glancing at Bucky, Steve shakes his head. “It was weird and painful on many levels. I don’t really like to remember it and I certainly don’t want to tell my boyfriend about it.”

“At least tell us who it was?”

Steve looks at Bucky again, who’s sat up and is now staring at his pants and playing with the hemline, as if he’s trying to avoid Steve’s sexcapade tale.

“I-I don’t know. I met him at a bar. Barely remembered his name that night.” Steve bites his lip, unwilling to confess that he totally bullshitted his friend by not admitting he slept with an ex that was in town for the weekend.

Sam grows disinterested quickly and shrugs. “Okay. Well I’m going to get ready for my date tonight.”

He disappears into the bathroom and Steve saves the game, setting his controller down before joining Bucky on the couch. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You were trying to get my attention earlier.” He purses his lips, thinking about how rude he might have come off as by ignoring him. “Sorry.”

“No big deal.” Bucky swings his legs down to the floor. “It was nothing.” He stands and starts for their bedroom.

Steve follows like a lost dog. “Are you sure? I feel bad for being so ignorant.”

“Yep.”

“Buck… You know that if you’re not sure you can just tell-” Steve runs into Bucky’s back with a thud. He staggers away. “Sorry…”

Turning, the brunet sighs and looks at Steve. “Stop apologizing.” He tilts Steve’s face up and kisses him softly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” He smiles for good measure before kissing Steve again and wrapping his arm around his waist. “ _But_ , if you want to make it up to me… There _is_ something you could do…”

Pulling away, Steve smirks. “Three guesses it doesn’t involve clothing.”

Bucky licks his lips and nods, tugging Steve’s shirt up and over his head. “No it doesn’t…”

Steve places a hand on Bucky’s stomach and forces him into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “No interruptions this time.”

Yanking his shirt over his head, Bucky sits on the bed. “Not a chance, lock it for good measure.” He waits for Steve to venture over before speaking again. “How are we going to make this work?”

Unbuttoning his jeans and lifting his shirt, Steve shrugs. “Simple, lay back and let me do all the work.”

“You’re going to top?”

Steve stops undressing. “Yeah, got a problem with that?”

“No.” Bucky purses his lips, thinking about it. “Hell no.”

“Good.” Steve pulls the drawstring on Bucky’s pants. “So a year, huh?”

“You trying to kill the mood?”

Smirking, Steve tosses the joggers away. “It’s not a _bad_ thing…”

Bucky reaches Steve and pulls open the first dresser drawer. “Might as well be.”

“Why?”

Shoving a condom at Steve, Bucky sighs, “Can we please not discuss this right now?”

Allowing the subject to drop, Steve leans forward and kisses Bucky’s neck, nipping at his clavicle upon moving further south. He pulls away and gently presses his hand against the brunet’s chest, urging him to lie down on the bed. Bucky does as he’s told, watching Steve all the while as he gradually removes his boxers.

A little awestruck by the blond, Bucky realizes something he hadn’t the week prior. “Steve… You’re hung.”

The blond blushes at the statement and resists the urge to cover up. “Not really.”

Bucky’s comment is deterred by the distraction of Steve’s touch. A deep heat streaks from the back of his throat to his groin as Steve’s hands tug the last of his clothes off and his fingers slide over the soft skin of his thighs.

Steve climbs onto the bed and centers himself between Bucky’s legs, sitting on his own calves. He leans down and kisses the tip of Bucky’s already erect cock, eliciting a needy whimper from the brunet. With nimble fingers, he douses his fingers with the contents of the bottle at his side, aware that Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off of him.

He slips his hand between the brunet’s legs and hesitates when Bucky stiffens. Steve uses his free hand to massage Bucky’s hip, encouraging him to relax.

“You don’t have to be so tense…” He leans across Bucky and kisses him sweetly. “I’ll be gentle.”

“I know… I trust you.”

Returning to his original position, Steve continues to stretch Bucky, fingers moving unhurried as he works the brunet until he’s ready. Sliding forward, he pushes Bucky’s thighs up, letting them rest over his own hips. He takes a deep breath and situates himself in line with Bucky. Caressing the tops of Bucky’s legs, Steve presses himself into his boyfriend, taking the time to adjust and judge the brunet’s reaction.

Bucky bites at his trembling lower lip, breathing deeply as he tries to stay relaxed. Steve takes ahold of his hand and brushes his thumb over the edges of his knuckles, attempting to smooth out the fist. He exhales slowly and lets his head drop against the pillow, eyes falling shut as he allows the pleasure of what Steve is doing to wash over him. The blond readjusts and thrusts suddenly, forcing a gasp from Bucky’s mouth. His eyes flutter and the gasp evolves into a moan as the thrusting becomes rhythmic.

Steve reluctantly paces himself, enjoying the sight of pure pleasure painted all over Bucky’s face. The brunet writhes and tilts his hips up, begging for more from Steve. With a shift of his hips, Steve pounds into Bucky. A half strangled scream of Steve’s name escapes Bucky’s throat as the blond nails him at just the right angle. His fingers dig into the mattress, grabbing at the sheets as Steve works him closer to the edge.

His stomach tightens and breathing grows shallow as he comes suddenly, orgasm dashing across his chest in a messy display. Steve immediately slows down, hips rotating leisurely as he thrusts in and out of Bucky. His body tenses and he lets his head fall back as he comes, his boyfriend’s name dripping off his lips in measured acclaim.

Bucky’s grip on the bed covers loosens as the rush subsides. He lets out a long breath and shuts his eyes, senses still buzzing. Kisses at his chest, neck, and jaw rouse him from the hazy bliss. He opens one eye and smiles at Steve who’s cuddle up beside him. He leans up and kisses the lovely lips waiting for a response.

Steve grins and rests his head on Bucky’s chest, finally relaxing. His eyes waver shut and within a few minutes, the blond has fallen asleep, his soft whistle filling the room.

Reaching up, Bucky combs his fingers through Steve’s hair, heart swelling with fondness for the sleeping man. His own eyes grow heavy and just before falling asleep, he sighs a kept secret. “I love you, Steve.”

 

The clambering of Sam wakes Steve up. He struggles to climb over Bucky without waking him but manages to do so without completely injuring himself. The painful panging in his knee from landing on the floor will likely prove visible with a bruise in a few hours. He pulls on an easy outfit, drapes a blanket over Bucky, and sneaks out to the common area.

There, he finds Sam sitting on the kitchen counter with a box of cheese crackers in his hands. Steve frowns and cautiously approaches. “Uh, Sam? Is everything okay?” He glances at the clock. “I thought you were picking up Naomi at seven… It’s 7:24.”

“I got there at seven. She wasn’t ready. Told me to wait.” He rolls his eyes. “Then she checks her damn phone and finds out that her little sister was having a crisis.” He tosses a few crackers into his mouth and crosses his arms. “The silly girl was just having problems picking which boy to go out with. Honey, you’re in high school. It doesn’t matter!” He groans and hops down from the counter. “Now I’m stuck in here all night with you two.”

“Is that such a problem?”

“Only for two reasons. 1. You’re not my girlfriend. So 2. I’m not gonna fuck you.”

Steve laughs and takes the crackers. “Point taken. Well we can at least order in so you don’t starve by eating cheez-its for your whole meal.”

“Yeah, yeah alright.” Sam scans the room. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Oh he’s asleep.” Steve smiles softly. “I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Naw, he’ll probably get up when he starts dreaming of the pizza that he’ll be smelling.” Sam grabs the first to-go menu from the fridge and dials the number, ordering plenty of food for the weekend.

Steve barely eats before deciding to wander back to bed, exhausted from a relatively inactive day. He kisses Bucky goodnight and leaves the brunet and Sam to watch the latest game of football.

 

The next morning, Steve slips into sweatpants and hijacks one of Bucky’s sweaters before puttering down to the main lobby to get the mail. He ends up running into Natasha who’s waiting for a package to arrive.

“Morning, Steve. You’re up early.”

“Nat, it’s 9:53.”

She grumbles. “That means my UPS shipment is late.”

“What time was it supposed to be here?”

“9:30.”

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it’ll turn up soon enough.” He retrieves the mail from his dorm’s box and locks everything back up. “Do you want company for your wait?”

Natasha shrugs. “Sure.” She scoots over and offers him a seat on the bench. “So… You seem awful chipper this morning.”

“Do I?” Steve chuckles, “I don’t think so.”

“No, no. I’m right.” She gives him a once over. “There’s something different about you today.”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” She squints at him. “Did you…” She frowns before grinning. “I know! You got _laid_.”

Steve hesitates, a bit taken aback. “How did you guess?”

“You’re wearing one of Bucky’s sweaters and you kind of smell like him. Just figured you _had_ to be fucking in order to end up in this sort of situation.” She gestures to the whole of him. “Congrats though, I know you’ve been wanting to hit that since day one.”

Blushing, Steve laughs uncomfortably. “We took our time.”

“How was it?”

“Isn’t that a little personal?”

She rolls her eyes and nudges him playfully. “Come on. You know you’ve been dying to tell someone. Haven’t you?”

Unable to keep himself from grinning, Steve nearly explodes. “It was amazing. Bucky is just so…” He sighs, “It was like a dream.”

Natasha files the keys in her hand into a neat order before responding. “That’s a rare thing. Must mean you two are meant for each other.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Steve?”

The blond glances back at the stairwell to see Bucky leaning against the railing. “Oh, hey Buck.”

The brunet steps forward. “Lunch? Remember?”

“Oh!” Steve gasps and jumps up. “Sorry, Nat. I gotta go.”

She smiles and waves him off before pulling her phone out for a distraction.

Steve follows Bucky up the stairs and briefly wonders why he didn’t take the elevator instead.

The two walk in silence until Bucky stops in the middle of a flight to kiss Steve. He blushes and pulls away quickly, heart pounding and throat filled with ‘I love you’s’ that don’t make it past a whisper.

“Bucky?” The concern on Steve’s face is genuine and he closes the space between the two of them. “Is something wrong?”

The brunet shakes his head, pulse slowing as he takes Steve’s hand. “I was just overwhelmed by how happy I am.” He smiles. “By how happy _you_ make me.”

Steve grins. “You’re an embarrassing mush.”

Bucky kisses him again. “I know. But come on, my mom will be here soon.”

Following Bucky up the stairs again, Steve feels slow in the head. “Why so early?”

“She wants to spend time with us. Aside from my gran’s presence.” He stops at their floor and proceeds to their dorm. “My mom really love you. You do know that, right?”

“I guess so.” Steve turns pink behind the ears. “She’s sweet and seems like a great mom.”

“She is. Maybe she’ll be yours one day.” Bucky unlocks the door and stops upon realizing what he just said. “I-uh- Sorry. Bit early for that, huh?”

Steve laughs at Bucky’s discomfort. “Don’t worry about it.” He walks in first and turns to face the brunet. “So… Do you need to shower?”

Bucky bites his lip and sighs, “You’re making me wish I did.”

Sam walks into the kitchen and raises an eyebrow. “Please, no getting nasty in the living room. We all share this space.”

Steve tugs at the edge of Bucky’s sweater and walks them to their room. “No worries, Sam. We’ll keep it PG.”

“You better.” He peers through the door’s peephole. “Cause James’ mom is here.”

Bucky stops, pulling against Steve’s hold on his clothes. “What?” He glances at the clock. “Already?” He groans. “My mom, eternally early. “Alright. He steps back into the living room. Let her in.”

Bucky returns to his room to get dressed as Sam opens the door and greets the woman with a happy smile. He steps out of her way and she lights up upon seeing Steve.

Charlotte gives the blond a huge hug when she sees him, speaking excitedly as she greets him. “Hi there, honey! It’s so good to see you again. Thanks for helping my boy. I hope you’re eager to eat. It’s about time I treat my son and his boyfriend to a quality meal.”

“Thanksgiving’s day wasn’t quality enough? You _are_ going to spoil us.”

Bucky emerges from the bedroom, shaking his head. “Enough being a kiss ass.” He grabs Steve’s arm and pulls him toward the hallway. “Excuse us, Mom.” He lets go and points to his waist. “My jeans need buttoning and so does this shirt.”

Steve tilts his head to the side and grins. “You seem like you’re deliberately choosing difficult clothes to dress in. Can’t get enough of my hands on you?”

Blushing profusely, Bucky glances around Steve to be sure that his mother didn’t hear. “What if I said you’re right?”

“Don’t know. I might have to put off studying. My grades might suffer though.” He licks his lower lip and smirks. “Think I should?”

Sinking two fingers beneath the waistband of Steve’s pants, Bucky pulls him closer. “I’m worth it.”

Sam clears his throat from behind them and the two jump away from each other. “Like I said before, if you’re gonna do that, get a room. And Barnes, keep your mother ten miles away from it.” He pushes past them and says farewell to Mrs. Dugan before grabbing his coat and leaving the dorm.

Bucky gives his mom a hug and offers her a seat. “So, where is this fantastic restaurant going to be?”

“It’s this little Italian bistro no more than three miles from here.”

“Mom, you drove that far just for a visit and lunch at an Italian restaurant?”

“Oh don’t worry. I have a surprise for you. That’s what makes this worth it!” She claps her hand together and stands quickly. “We don’t want to hit the rush so let’s leave!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to give an immense thank you to everyone who's reading this story. It means so much to me. I may not reply to the comments (mostly because I'm so awestruck someone responded I don't know what to say) but know that all of the comments and kudos mean the absolute world to me. Thank you. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to preface this chapter with an apology. I've been swept up by school work again, so unfortunately I'll be posting alternating Tuesdays rather than weekly. However, I hope you'll continue to read. I'd like to give thanks again to everyone reading. Your comments and kudos really keep me going. :)

So much for beating the rush. Thanks to an accident on the highway, the three of them arrive at the restaurant thirty minute late. Unfortunately, Nana Barnes is already there and she is not happy.

The disgruntled old woman coldly greets her grandson and ignores Steve’s presence. She chastises Charlotte for being late and mutters something about bringing unwanted guests to lunch. Charlotte insists that her son is allowed to bring who he wants and they eventually agree to disagree.

Left out of a majority of the conversation, towards the end of their meal, Steve is dragged into a discussion about the affairs of Christmas.

Charlotte folds her napkin over her plate and looks at the blond. “So Steve, what are you planning on doing for Christmas this year?”

He glances up, surprised at his sudden inclusion. “Oh, nothing much. I usually visit my own grandmother, but because I have to pay for the hospital visit from Thanksgiving’s day, I can’t afford a ticket to Maine. Especially with all the inflated prices for this time of year.”

“Well, I’m sure James wouldn’t mind if you joined our family this year. After all, we did love having you at Thanksgiving.”

Liza clears her throat. “Charlotte, don’t you think that Christmas should be reserved for family? It’s going to be a crowded house, what with the Barnes side of the family joining in the merriment. We wouldn’t want to overcrowd your tiny abode.”

Charlotte appears to be defeated by Liza’s words. “You’re right. But surely we should include significant others as well. I would hate for Tim to be without his fiancé, Poppy, on Christmas day of all occasions.”

“Yes, of course. That should be the only deviation from familial ties.” Her smile is smug, as if she’s won something. “I’m glad we could all come to an agreement.”

After the bill is all paid, and the four of them depart in their respective ways, Steve stays silent the entire ride home. He says goodbye to Mrs. Dugan and stands away from the car while Bucky says something to his mother before sending her off with a wave.

Steve shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs. “So either I’m not going to Christmas with you or your mother just set you up to come out.”

The brunet stops in the middle of the side walk and stares at Steve with a panicked expression. “She did _not_ …”

“What?”

“I haven’t told my gran that I’m gay because I think she’ll hate me. But-but my mom thinks that me telling her might make her more accepting. She’s been trying to get me to come out for a while.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe she won. She’s finally getting her way.” He groans, “I swear if this goes south, she will never hear the end of it.”

Steve takes his hand and smiles. “Who said Christmas wasn’t without a little drama.”

 

A week after finals wrap up, Bucky’s jitters are at an all-time high. It’s still a week before Christmas, but the tension of his grandma’s presence at the holiday gathering isn’t what has him on edge.

Placing a hand on Bucky’s knee, Steve speaks softly, “Calm down… They can’t prep you for surgery if you’re bouncing around like a rabbit.”

“I’m freaking out.” He takes a deep breath, practically wheezing as he sucks the air in. “I don’t know what to do.”

Steve pats his hand. “That’s okay. The doctors know what to do. That’s the important part. You’re just going to be asleep.” He nudges Bucky gently. “You know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“When you wake up, you’ll have an arm.” He kisses Bucky’s cheek. “Now get up so I can help you into the hospital robe.”

“Steve…”

“Buck, I know you’re worried.” He places his hands on either side of Bucky’s face, squishing his cheeks in. “But you’re gonna be so chock full of drugs you won’t feel or know a thing. It’ll be over in an instant.” He lets go and kisses Bucky’s forehead. “Leave the worrying to me.”

“To you.”

“Yep.” He snaps up the robe and stuffs Bucky’s clothes in a nearby chair. “The nurse will be here soon. I should probably go.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls him back for one more kiss. “I lo- loathe leaving you behind.”

Steve frowns at the odd stutter but shrugs it off. “I’ll be waiting. You’re not leaving me.” He waves goodbye as the nurse enters the room. “See you in a few hours…”

Sam matches up with Steve’s stride as he joins him in walking toward the waiting room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you? He’ll be in there for a while.”

The blond drops himself into a plastic coated chair and sighs, “I don’t want you to be bored too.”

Pulling a Ziploc baggie from his pocket, Sam shrugs. “I brought a deck of cards.” He glances at the vending machine in the corner. “We could buy a couple bags of skittles or M&Ms and play poker.”

“For three hours?”

“Would you rather stare at the wall?”

Steve laughs and grabs a couple of dollars from his wallet. “You have a good point.”

 

After getting eating their winnings from poker, Sam makes a trip to the grocery store, returning with hot sandwiches and cold sodas. He hands Steve his food and sits beside the blond. “So how do you think he’s going to like it?”

“Not sure. He’s worried he won’t be able to control it very well.”

“Isn’t that what physical therapy is for?”

Nodding, Steve takes a bite of his sandwich, humming happily at the warm food. “I guess he just has to get used to it. Should be no problem after a while.”

Sam takes a swig of his soda, smiling prematurely about his comment. “I can’t imagine Christmas with his nana if he couldn’t control that thing.”

Steve snorts and bites his lip, doing his best not to laugh at the imagery. He succumbs to the humor quickly. “He’d be a mess, trying to pick up things. ‘Oh no! The gravy!’”

Snickering at Steve’s imitation, Sam belches loudly and the two of them fill the empty waiting room with their raucous laughter.

The hilarity dies down and Steve sighs happily, “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a very long time.”

Sam grins. “You’re welcome.”

A nurse walks through the double doors and peeks around the corner, looking at the two of them. “Steve Rogers?”

“That’s me.”

“Mr. Barnes is out of surgery. Everything went to plan.” She smiles softly. “He should be awake within an hour but he might be out of it from the morphine.”

Steve thanks the nurse and allows her to leave before packing up his lunch. “Looks like we’ve got to be quieter.”

“Nah.” Sam wraps up his food and heads for the elevator. “I’m going to head out. Naomi wanted to go see a movie. I told her we could after James got out of surgery. Text me when he wakes up.”

“Will do.”

Steve waves goodbye and returns to Bucky’s hospital room where his boyfriend is sleeping soundly. He sits in the recliner and stares at the prosthetic, tempted to touch the black material. Whipping out his phone, he texts Sam and attaches a picture of Bucky’s arm to the message. Sam sums up Steve’s thoughts in seven words. _It’s sleeker than I thought it’d be._

 

Despite the uncomfortable fluorescent lights shining in his eyes, Bucky is immediately comforted by the sound of Steve’s soft snoring. He sits up and smiles at the blond in the corner, elated that he’d stay this long, just for him.

He sticks his foot out from under the blanket and nudges Steve’s knee. “You’re going to ruin your sleep schedule.”

The blond groans, “You’re not my mom.” He stirs in the chair and opens one eye, head still groggy from his nap. “How you feeling?”

Bucky stares down at his new limb. “A little excited, a little freaked out. It hurts some too.” He wiggles his index finger. “Looks like that one works.”

Steve laughs and sits up. “Are you going to take it one at a time?”

The brunet shrugs. “Maybe taking it slow will ensure that they all work?”

“That sounds a little paranoid.”

Bucky makes a fist and waggles it at Steve. “You’re being a little punk.”

Standing from the chair, Steve grabs Bucky’s hand and interweaves their fingers. “Looks like a perfect fit.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just in time for the holiday season, though most of the shenanigans will commence in the next section. Hope you enjoy it!

The moment is interrupted by a doctor checking in on Bucky. He gives the brunet a rundown of to-dos in order to heal properly and sets him up for physical therapy, insisting though that he should be able to use it normally within only a few sessions.

Bucky stays for his first appointment and sends Steve home, telling him to wrap the gifts up for Christmas. Steve proceeds to do so and immediately becomes discouraged.

“Isn’t that enough tape?”

Glancing up at Sam, Steve shrugs and places a second strip of tape over the top of an ill folded flap of wrapping paper. “I have to be sure that these gifts won’t just pop open.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” He sits on the couch, staring down at Steve straddling the present between his thighs on the floor. “I suppose gift wrapping is a talent. You’re either blessed with it or you’re not.”

“Are you blessed with it?”

Sam laughs, “Hell no.” He shakes his head, grinning. “One year I tried to help my mom wrap gifts because we were having _everyone_ in our family over, which we do every five years or so. Out of the kindness of my heart, I took it upon myself to wrap all of the gifts while she was at work. Poor woman nearly had a heart attack when she saw the mess I made. She told me, ‘Sammy, you woulda thought you were a two year old wrappin’ these the way you’ve done ‘em up.’ Believe me, that was the last time I helped without her consent.”

Steve picks up the present and rotates it in his hands. “I suppose I’m not either.” He purses his lips. “Well, I guess I’m doing a better job than Bucky would.”

“That’s cold.”

“Too soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…” Steve sighs, “Maybe I should just go out and buy bags and tissue paper.”

Sam claps him on the back. “I think you should.”

 

A vicious pounding on the door wakes up the three young men. Slowly but surely, they make their way to the door. Steve reaches the knob first. He stands on his tip toes and peeks through the eye hole and frowns, wondering what Natasha was doing up this early. He glances at the clock on the stove. It’s a quarter past six in the morning.

He opens the door and backs up into Sam and Bucky when the redhead encroaches into their dorm. The other two grumble and stumble backwards as well, just as confused as the blond.

Natasha grins wildly and tosses a handful of red, green, and silver streamers into the air. “MERRY CHRISTMAS!!” She turns around and runs back to her dorm across the hall, returning quickly with three boxes, wrapped perfectly in white paper with silver glitter snowflakes decaling each cube. “Open them.”

Steve hesitantly takes them, checking the tags and passing the gifts out. Sam tears into his first and finds a forest green sweater with a knitted partridge in a pear tree sewn into the front and center. He laughs, half tired and half amused, and kisses her on the cheek. He pulls it over his head and thanks her. He pats the bird and yawns, bidding her goodnight as he slumps back to bed.

Bucky opens his next, pulling out a bottle of bourbon. He grins heartily and gives her a kiss. “You know me too well.”

She beams. “You guys _are_ my favorite neighbors.” She pokes Steve. “Your turn. You’re gonna _love_ my gift.”

Skeptical of what she means by that, he admires the paper before tearing it apart. He hesitates, unsure of exactly what to say. “I-I cannot believe you actually bought this.”

Natasha smirks. “Forty-eight count. Multipack. For all your needs, you know, since you’re getting it a lot lately.”

Bucky glances over Steve’s shoulder, having just poured himself a glass of whiskey. “Nat… Why did you buy Steve condoms?”

“I heard he was getting it in and I thought I’d do my part to help.”

Shrugging, Bucky snatches the box from Steve and reads the back. “Want to try a ribbed one? Apparently they ensure _maximum_ pleasure.”

Steve turns beet red and covers his face, giving Natasha a muffled, halfhearted thank you through his fingers.

Pleased with Steve’s demure reaction, Natasha pulls a small card from her hoodie pocket. “This is your real gift.” She smiles. “I figured with everything that’s been going on lately, you’d need a break.”

Inside the three inch envelope, Steve finds a three-hundred dollar gift-card for an airline company. He gawks at the value before thrusting it back into Natasha’s hands. “I can’t accept that. That’s too much money!”

“Don’t worry, Rogers. My dad is a manager there. He got that for me for thirty bucks. Guess that’s the kind of power you have when you work somewhere for twenty plus years.” Her tone becomes earnest, “I don’t know exactly what you’ll do with it, but I heard you talking to Sam about your grandmother a couple weeks ago. Figured this could help you get to see her sometime soon.”

Steve lurches forward and wraps her in a bear hug. “Thank you so much.”

Natasha hands the card back to him. “Of course. Just be sure to take pictures when you do go.”

“I definitely will.” He glances back at the miniature Christmas tree in their living room and bites his lip, thinking hard. “I have your gift, but the wrapping doesn’t really cover it.” He laughs, “Mind getting it at noon?”

“It’s no problem. I just like being early with these kinds of things.” She waves goodbye and wishes them a good rest of their sleep.

Steve links arms with Bucky and tries to pull him away from the bourbon he’s nursing. “C’mon. Time for bed.”

Bucky glances down at his drink and finishes it in one gulp. He winces and sighs, “You ready for today?”

“I might be after-” Steve leans back and checks the time on the stove. “-after three, maybe four hours of sleep.” He gives up on pulling his boyfriend back to bed and sits next to Bucky at the breakfast bar. “Are you?”

The brunet lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “Not hardly. I’m still worried about what my gran is going to say.” He places his hand on Steve’s neck and pulls the blond in for a deep kiss. “You won’t run away, even if she goes nuts, will you?”

Standing from the seat, Steve takes Bucky’s hand. “You know I won’t.” He tugs gently, urging the brunet to his feet. “Time for bed. You’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Bucky smirks. “Why? You promising something fun tomorrow?”

Steve rolls his eyes and walks to their room. “Goodnight Bucky.”

 

Morning rolls around and nearly ends before Steve climbs out of bed. He yawns and stretches, shuffling to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. Bleary eyed, he stares at the clock, realizing it’s nearly eleven.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He turns and finds Bucky watching the Disney parade on their T.V. “Where’s Sam?”

“He left at nine. Apparently his parents have a Christmas lunch instead of dinner.”

Steve takes his mug of steaming coffee to the couch and sits beside Bucky, leaning heavily against his boyfriend. “When are we leaving?”

“I don’t know. Probably within an hour. You want to get dressed or shower or something?”

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Bucky glances at Steve. “You look exhausted.”

“I couldn’t fall asleep. Kept waking up when I did.” He inhales the steam from his coffee and sighs, “Can we just stay home and use Natasha’s present all day?”

“As intriguing as that is,” he bites his lip, “and as much as I really would rather, we can’t disappoint my family.”

Steve sets down his drink and turns to Bucky, straddling his lap. “What if I promised to do anything you wanted? No questions, no resisting. You could do whatever the hell you want with me, all day. Sam won’t be home for _hours_. Imagine the possibilities.”

“Please…” Bucky sighs heavily, staring at the strip of skin peeking out between Steve’s pajamas and his too short shirt. His hand wanders up and he presses his thumb into Steve’s hip, gripping the blond tightly. “I-” He swallows the lump in his throat and licks his lips. “I guess I could call saying I’m sick…”

Grinning, Steve bends down and kisses Bucky’s neck. “Please do.”

Before he can even dial his mother’s number, she’s calling him. He answers with a confused tone. “Hello?” He listens intently, face souring as the call drags on. Pushing Steve off of his lap, he starts for their bedroom. “Yeah, of course. I’ll head out now. Bye.”

“What was that all about?”

Bucky shouts from the room next door until Steve appears in the room. “She needs help with the cooking because Daniel is out getting Tim and Poppy and that’s going to take more than a few hours.” He tugs on a clean sweater and pair of jeans before kissing Steve and apologizing. “I wish we could stay home, but I have to go.”

Steve sighs, “Fine then.” He collects clothes from the hall closet and pieces an outfit together. “But there’s no way you’re going without me.”

Beaming, Bucky grins at his boyfriend. “Thank you.”


	14. Chapter 14

The drive to the Dugan household seems shorter than it did the first time. Steve guesses that it’s only because he’s already been there. The house welcomes him and Bucky in with its warmth contrasting the frigid air outside. While the sparkling Christmas tree hurts his eyes, Steve is comforted by the presence of the festivities, the like of which he hasn’t experienced in years.

Bucky nudges Steve’s shoulder with his own and glances up. “Look.”

A bundle of mistletoe dangles above them, strapped to the ceiling by tape and leftover red wrapping ribbon.

“We can’t say no to tradition… How ‘bout it, Steve?”

The blond turns and plants a kiss square on Bucky’s lips, sucking on his bottom lip as he pulls away. “Of course not, after all, we’re staunchly traditional people.”

At a loss for words, Bucky grins like an idiot, a bit dazed from Steve’s kiss. “Yeah. _Super_ traditional…”

“Did I hear my baby’s voice?”

Knocked out of his trance, Bucky lights up and rushes to hug his mother and wish her a happy Christmas. Steve follows suit and hugs Charlotte, thanking her for having him over for the holiday.

“You’re always welcome here, Steve. I love having you as a part of our family.”

Steve’s emotions get the best of him and he becomes misty eyed. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She kisses Steve’s temple and leads the two boys into the kitchen. “Luckily, you’re the first ones here. Like I said on the phone with James, my husband is still out, picking up _his_ son. But they should be back within an hour. Until then, can you help me ice the gingerbread cookies?”

“Mom, you know I’m not artistic worth shit.”

“You’re back home, celebrating Christmas, don’t swear. Or do I need to break out the soap like I did when you were seventeen?”

Bucky shrinks back. “No, ma’am.”

Charlotte snickers at her son and hands a piping bag to Steve. “Anyhow, you always say how much of an artist your boyfriend is. Why don’t we let him prove it?”

Both Steve and Bucky blush. The blond embarrassed by being put on the spot and the latter because he’d been revealed as a bragging sort of boyfriend.

Bucky relents to the task out of fear his mom will reveal any more humiliating things he’s said about Steve. He joins his boyfriend at the dinner table. “What should I do?”

Steve hands him a cookie, iced with pants and dots for shirt buttons. “How ‘bout you give them eyes and a smile.”

“I can do that.”

 

By the time Tim and Poppy arrive with Daniel, Steve and Bucky have finished the decorating. Bucky introduces Steve to Daniel and the man is amiable toward the blond despite his recent long trip.

The second they’re out of earshot, Daniel addresses Charlotte with a harsh whisper. “You didn’t think to tell me that your son is _gay_?”

She frowns, taken aback by his reaction. “I didn’t think it would be an issue.”

“They’re spending the night here, aren’t they?”

Charlotte nods. “I told you. After last time, I’m not letting them drive home in the dark.”

He begins to fume. “Then it _is_ an issue.” He glowers at Bucky. “Char, we’re _Catholic_. This isn’t right.”

She crosses her arms and puffs out her chest. “Your _church_ may be against homosexuality but _God_ made my son the way he is.” She grits her teeth and narrows her eyes. “He stays. _Both_ of them do.”

Daniel stands firm for a few seconds before sighing, “Fine. Have it your way.” He glances at Steve and Bucky holding hands while watching Frosty the Snowman on the couch and shrugs. “Why ruin the holiday with bickering.”

Charlotte kisses her husband and thanks him for his placidity about the situation before returning to the kitchen.

The show ends and Bucky grabs Steve’s arm. “Come with me.”

Confused, Steve stares at Bucky’s hand wrapped around his forearm. “Why?”

“I have a present for you.” He stands, tugging lightly on Steve. “It’s in my room.”

Steve smirks. “Is it your dick?”

Bucky immediately turns a dark shade of red, glancing around to see if anyone heard. “N-no…”

Sitting back, still resisting Bucky’s tugging, Steve raises an eyebrow. “Then why can’t I have it here?”

The brunet sighs, “Fine. It is.” He tugs harder. “C’mon.”

Steve rises from his seat on the couch and follows Bucky to his room. “Remind me again how this is a good idea.”

Bucky laughs and locks the door behind them. “It’s not.” He leans down and kisses at Steve’s clavicle, starting to pull up the blond’s shirt when his hands are stopped. “Something wrong?”

“You better have a condom because I sure don’t.”

Rolling his eyes, slightly irritated, Bucky takes a tone with Steve. “Natasha gave you a forty-eight pack and you didn’t even bring _one_?”

Steve crosses his arms. “Gee, Buck, I’m sorry I didn’t connect meeting the rest of your family with muffled sex on your creaky childhood bed.”

“We could still-”

“Don’t even go there.” Steve escapes being trapped between Bucky’s body and the wall by ducking below the brunet’s arm. He unlocks the door and leans against the frame. “I tell you what. I’ll make it up to you later.”

“How much later?”

“Bucky, get your head out of the gutter.” Steve stops at the end of the hallway. “Your grandmother is here. See, _this_ is why we keep it in our pants around relatives.”

Shaking his head, Bucky steps around Steve to approach the elderly woman. “Gran! It’s so good to see you again!”

Liza peers around Bucky and stares at Steve. “You brought _him_.” She forces a smile. “I thought we agreed on significant others only.”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat and nods, his heart beating erratically. “We _did_.”

She glances at Steve, Bucky, and then Steve again who gives a modest wave. “You’re dating him.” Her tone is calm and matter of fact, which unnerves Bucky.

“I am.” His voice shakes over the two words as he attempts to judge her reaction.

She keeps the same tone, “You’re gay.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “Correct again.”

Liza’s expression relaxes and she begins laughing. For a split moment, her grandson thinks she might implode. “That’s a relief!”

“I’m sorry?” He frowns, as confused as ever. “I thought you hated gays.”

She smiles meekly. “That may be, but I could _never_ hate my own grandson. At least not completely.” She takes his hand, the smile growing more genuine. “Thank you for being so honest with me. I was beginning to wonder what exactly was wrong with you since you’ve never dated a girl. Now I know!”

Bucky chuckles uncomfortably and takes his hand back. “Well now you do. Thanks for understanding…”

“It’s not like I can’t _try_ to modernize myself.” She points to Steve. “Bring your boyfriend-” She hesitates over the word before continuing, “so he can meet your cousins.”

Bucky takes ahold of Steve’s hand and pulls him toward his family clustered at the door. Steve kisses his shoulder and squeezes his hand, whispering in a low voice, “I’m proud of you. You handled it better than I did with my grandma.”

“Oh? How did that go?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

The brunet raises and eyebrow. “I’ve got a lot of ‘laters’ coming to me.”

Steve rolls his eyes and offers a wide smile as Bucky starts to introduce him to the rest of his family.

 

The family opens presents before dinner. Without presents to open, Steve curls up beside Bucky in an overly large chair. He watches the festivities and relaxes by sipping on spiked hot chocolate, courtesy of the peppermint schnapps Bucky brought in a flask.

Charlotte serves dinner at six, making sure everyone is satisfied with their heaping plate before serving herself. Steve thanks her in the kitchen and uses the private moment to slip her a card. He follows her back to the table and digs into his awaiting meal.

With stomachs filled, they gather again in the living room, this time to watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. Bucky falls asleep against Steve’s chest within the first thirty minutes of the film. He only stirs when it’s over and the blond is nudging him awake so he can say goodbye to his family.

Bucky stumbles toward the hall when his family has left and only his mother and boyfriend are left in the house. He yawns and stretches, pulling off his sweater as he drags himself to his room.

Not quite tired, Steve offers to help Charlotte with the dishes and she gratefully accepts his assistance.

“I though Tim and Poppy were staying too.” Steve turns on the hot water. “I was looking forward to getting to know them better.”

Charlotte shrugs. “They were, but apparently her folks wanted to celebrate Christmas as a family, so they’re going to her parents tomorrow. At least Daniel didn’t mind the trip.”

“That’s a long drive back.” Steve stares out the kitchen window at the black sky. “I hope he drives safe.”

“I’m sure he will.” Charlotte hands Steve a sponge and the bottle of dish soap. “So. I’d like to know something.” She hesitates, “But, feel free to not answer if it’s too personal.”

Scrubbing at a cookie sheet, Steve nods. “Go ahead.”

“How serious are you with James?”

Only the sound of scraping from the pan fills his ears as Steve processes the question. He stops scrubbing. “I-I’m not sure I understand which context you mean.”

“Do you love him?”

Pausing for thought, Steve dwells on her words, realizing that he’s never given ‘love’ much thought in their relationship. Yet, at the slightest hint of the emotion, Steve’s heart stammers into overdrive and an ache fills his chest, welling up through his body until he spits out his words, “Of course I do.”

Charlotte smiles and places a handful of silverware out to dry. “I’m glad to hear it.” Her expression grows peaceful as if she’s thinking of a fond memory. “You are the first boyfriend of his that I’ve met. The way he gushes about you when we speak on the phone!” She lets out a giggle, “He’s positively _smitten_ with you!”

Picking up the last large bowl from the sink, Steve grins unabashedly about the info he’s receiving. “That’s really good to know. I haven’t been in a serious relationship since I was eighteen. And I’ve grown so much since then, it’s hard to tell if you’re doing things correctly.”

“Oh honey.” Charlotte sighs, “There’s no proper way to love someone.” She shrugs. “The way I see it, so long as you give them your heart and continuously work for each other, not against, it will always succeed.” She rinses the last of the dishes. “You seem to be doing just fine. But I must ask, out of curiosity, what do you want from a serious relationship?”

Steve minimally ponders the question, knowing the answer immediately. “I want love. I want marriage and children. I want the growing old together story that’s so sweet it nauseates people. And- and thinking about those things – and picturing Buck… It-” he sighs happily, “-it just feels _right_.”

Charlotte pulls Steve in for a bear hug, overjoyed by his response, before dismissing him from the kitchen. “Go get some rest. I’m taking you and James out for breakfast in the morning.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I may be almost a week late to say that, but better late than never. :) I hope you all have a lovely year full of happiness.  
> On a side note, thanks for sticking around for each chapter. I'm grateful for each and every one of you readers. You're the real champions here! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this segment.

Seven hours of sleep and four pancakes later, Steve and Bucky are on their way home. Steve stares out the window, watching the dark clouds rolling toward them. The twenty miles to home seem to lengthen with every creeping cloud in the sky. Reaching for the knitted blanket in the back seat, Steve bundles himself up against the drafty car.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Bucky turns the heater up and glances at Steve. “Something on your mind?”

The blond sighs and shakes his head. “No.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s tone. “Are you lying?”

Another sigh, “Yeah.”

Flipping on his turn signal and switching to the far right lane, Bucky pulls off the highway and into an old bar’s parking lot. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you have a good time?”

“I did. But that’s the issue.” Steve’s lower lip quivers as he blinks away emerging tears. “You’ll never get to meet _my_ family. I have an aunt in Ireland, a grandma in Maine, and an uncle in jail. That’s _it._ You can’t impress my mother or help her make cookies.” He rubs at his face. “But sure, visit her grave.” He chokes out a sob and pats the tears from his cheeks, slumping forward against the dashboard.

Bucky sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, pulling the blond across the cup holders and onto his lap. He kisses Steve’s back and hugs him tightly.

The wordless comfort eventually calms Steve into a stupor. He leans his head against Bucky, still patting away tears and sniffling.

When the trembling beneath his fingers ceases, Bucky loosens his grip on Steve’s torso. “Got it all out?”

Steve nods.

“I know my family is no substitute, and never will be. But, I hope you know that’s okay. Take what you need. My cousins loved you and my mom _adores_ you. If that’s all the reassuring family ties you need, it’s fine. I just want you to know that you’re welcome. Always. Baggage and all.”

Mood lifted, Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “You think _I’ve_ got baggage?” He pokes Bucky’s left arm. “At least mine is all emotional.”

Bucky squeezes Steve’s sides, causing the blond to curl up out of reflex. “You’re a punk.”

Steve laughs and clambers back into his seat. “Are we driving or what? At this rate, we won’t make it for New Year’s!”

Turning the car on again, Bucky rejoins the freeway, once again driving his impatient boyfriend home..

 

“What do you think Angie meant when she said her New Year’s resolution was to be more in love?”

Bucky turns around in his bed to see the anonymous resolutions from the last P.R.I.D.E. meeting spread across Steve’s lap. “How do you know it’s hers?”

“She doodled Mrs. Carter across the page in hearts.”

“Hmm. Sounds like she’s well on her way to accomplishing that goal.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

Steve shuffles the resolutions into a pile and tucks them off to the side before climbing into Bucky’s bed. “New Year’s is tonight. And you haven’t told me your resolution.”

He shrugs. “I don’t like making them.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never followed through. Not once. Not even when I really wanted it. So making one usually ends up causing me to feel like a failure.”

Steve rests his head on Bucky’s chest. “Aside from being a tad melodramatic, that’s sad. I love resolutions. Even if you don’t follow through. It’s just nice to have the hope that this year, this _new_ year will be something better.”

Bucky smiles softly and kisses the top of Steve’s head. “I like that sentiment. So what’s _your_ resolution?”

“I want to mend a few bridges I might have burned in my youth.”

“Youth?”

“Well, when I was 18 and 19. Maybe 20.”

“So from a few years ago?”

“Basically.” Steve sits up. “Please make one. For me?”

Bucky sighs, “If it means _that_ much to you…”

“It does.”

The brunet purses his lips. “How about I resolve to make sure you’re always happy – you know, when I actually am a part of the situation.”

Steve grins. “I like that a lot.”

“Of course you do. It’s about you.”

A knock on the door draws their attention and Sam peeks in. “So the New Year’s party will start at nine. That gives us less than two hours to freshen up before it starts, and even less time before Natasha wants our help with the setup.” He throws a towel at Bucky and Steve. “Do me a favor?”

The pair answer in unison, “Sure?”

“Shower together so I can have just a _little_ hot water when I get back?”

Steve crawls off the bed and approaches Sam. “Where are you going?”

Producing a massive wad of cash from his pocket, Sam grins. “Nat has me picking up the food.”

Bucky sits up. “I thought she had catering?” He frowns. “Don’t they usually deliver?”

“Of course they do. I’m picking up dessert.” Sam smirks, quirking an eyebrow up. “And libations.”

Steve smacks at Sam’s arm, trying to draw his attention. “Get something fruity.”

“C’mon, Steve. You know I always do.” He nods, thinking about the options. “Fruity drinks are the best.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and pretends to gag.

Glancing around Steve, Sam points a finger at Bucky and narrows his eyes. “We can’t all be bitter liquor livers like you.”

Steve laughs and nudges Sam out the door. “Better head out now so Natasha doesn’t wring your neck because you’re late.”

“You’re right. See you guys in a little while.” He closes the front door but cracks it for a second to shout, “Don’t forget my hot water!”

Returning to his room, Steve lays on his own bed. “I showered this morning.”

Bucky groans, “You disappoint me, Steve.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time for _that_ in the new year.”

 

By the time Bucky is out of the shower, Steve is nowhere to be found. He ties a towel around his waist and ventures into the living room, glancing around the empty space. He shrugs and heads back to his room, where Steve’s left a note underneath the lamp on his bedside table.

_“At Natasha’s. She needed help with the decorating early. Sam’s not back yet and she’s stressed. Join when you’re dressed. <3 Steve”_

By the time Bucky gets his pants on and his ass across the hall, most of the decorations are up and Sam has returned. He does the best he can to make up for being late, but Natasha has forgiven him by the time the party starts.

Steve mingles on his own while Bucky struggles to keep up. The Malibu in his system obviously makes him much more sociable. He sips and talks, laughs and sips, and returns to the drink table for more when the cup is empty. By his fourth glass, Bucky intervenes.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He takes the liquor from Steve’s hands, met with a whine. “Just because this stuff is sweet, doesn’t mean it won’t affect you.”

Steve scowls at his boyfriend. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Mhmm. I’ll believe that when you can take this key and unlock our door with it.” He nods toward the hallway. “Go on.”

The blond scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I can do that blindfolded.” He starts toward the door and ventures across the hall. The key scrapes against the handle and he grumbles as he forces it into the lock, trying to turn it over with all of his might. “It’s broken.”

Bucky stares at the door number, smirking. “No, it’s just not our dorm.”

Steve glances at the number and snickers, “You’re a tricky one.”

Guiding Steve back to the party, Bucky hands him a glass of water. “Let’s not ring the new year in with a hangover, yeah?”

He resigns with a sigh, “Yeah…”

The countdown brings everyone gathered around the television, chanting with the hosts in Times Square. When zero hits, plastic cups are clinked and couples kiss before exploding the small poppers in a fit of celebratory happiness. Natasha is forced to turn a few fans on out of the risk that the fire alarm will go off but she relaxes once the festivities have worn down. By 1:15, most everyone has filtered out of the dorm and back to their own abodes.

Sam sits on the couch beside the redhead and thanks her for the party. “So, do you need any help cleaning up?” He glances at the streamers littering the floor, strewn across furniture and empty cups alike. “This place kind of looks like a wreck.”

Maria emerges from the kitchen, stretching and yawning. “I think we should just wait until tomorrow. New year, new cleaning.”

Natasha nods, eyes heavy as she leans against Sam. “She’s right. We need to sleep…” She yawns deeply, “Plenty of time for that tomorrow.”

“Alright then. If you still want the help, give me a shout.” He gently removes himself from the couch, letting Natasha down easily before collecting Steve and Bucky in the hallway.

He stares down at the two, asleep in the middle of the walkway, and nudges Bucky awake with his foot. The brunet stirs and glances up at Sam, giving him a drowsy smile before reaching for his hand. Sam hauls Bucky to his feet and helps him get Steve up. The blond stumbles into everything on their way into the dorm.

Bucky lets him fall asleep in his clothes, covering him with a blanket and thanking Sam for the help. “I’ll see you in the morning. Happy New Year.”

“You too. Sleep well.”

Returning to his room, Bucky sighs happily as he climbs into bed. Perhaps a little too optimistic about the coming year, but blissfully excited about it nonetheless.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you'll enjoy the NSFW nature of this chapter. It's always nice to see these two go at it. After all, that's why most of us are here. ;D

Ten in the morning is too early to be woken up on New Year’s Day. Steve sits up in bed slowly, head hazy and stomach hurting from his pants’ button stabbing him all night. He slides off of the bed and waddles toward the door, immediately irritated by the relentless knocking. Swinging the door open, he glares at the interrupter of his REM cycle.

“Good morning, Rogers. I figured I’d visit my old roommate on this lovely new day.”

Steve glowers at the speaker. “What the hell do you want, Brock.”

The man is far too cheery for anyone’s good as he hands Steve a letter. “Turns out, you can’t move dorms without paying a fee.” He grins as he continues. “Either you pay up, or you move back in with me. I’ll be looking forward to having some company again.”

Brock leaves Steve standing there in shock as he rips open the letter. Official school stationary, with the official stamp, stating that he _is_ in fact to pay a 200 dollar fee or move back to his original housing, lest he like to be put at risk of expulsion. He groans and shuts the door, leaning on it for support.

Bucky shuffles out of their room yawning, “What ‘cha got there?”

“A lovely letter delivered by our very own Brock Rumlow stating that I have to pay a moving fee in order to live here or move back in with him.”

“Is it legitimate?”

Steve nods. “Unfortunately.”

Bucky scoffs, “That’s ridiculous. The only way they would know you moved was if _someone_ told them. And I’m pretty sure I know which bastard opened his mouth.”

“Well yeah. But that hardly matters now. I have to figure out some way to pay this.”

Snatching the letter from Steve’s hands, Bucky gives it a once over. “What if we try to appeal?”

“Probably won’t do any good.”

“You don’t know that. And it doesn’t hurt to try… Come on.” He pulls Steve to their room. “Get dressed in something that smells less like cherry vodka and join me downstairs. We’re going to make a fuss.”

 

When Bucky said fussing, Steve made a mistake and underestimated his ability to play the gay card. The poor mousy girl behind the counter didn’t stand a chance. By the end of his tirade about sexual orientation inequality and abuse of gays by homophobic ignoramuses, she was more than willing to waive the fee.

With a shaking hand, she signs a document declaring the matter dealt with and hurries to make a copy for Steve to take with him. He thanks her profusely and offers as many genuine smiles as he can muster before hurrying outside to catch up to his boyfriend.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Bucky glances down at Steve, feigning shock, “I can’t fathom what you mean.”

“Oh please. That was incredible back there. Did you study inequalities while I was getting dressed this morning or was all that homophobe talk from your head?”

“I suppose most of it was from experience. But I’m glad I could help.” He reaches for Steve’s hand and swings their arms together, adopting a charming grin. “So what do you want to do today?”

Steve smirks. “I kind of want to go rub this in Brock’s face. But we both know I’m not that guy.”

“Not completely.”

“What are you saying?”

Laughing, Bucky tugs on Steve’s arm, pulling him toward their building. “Nothing. Let’s go wake up Sam. Maybe we can convince him to take us to the mall.”

“Why would he choose us and the mall on the first day of the year?”

“Because he loves us. And I usually buy him something when we go.”

Steve frowns. “Why don’t you buy me anything?”

Bucky catches the elevator and pushes Steve inside, cornering him against the railing. “Do you want me to spoil you?”

“That would be nice…”

“Or would you rather we spent the day in bed?”

Skin flushing, Steve’s cheeks heat up as his mind realizes the meaning of Bucky’s words.

Slipping his hand across Steve’s waist, Bucky pulls the blond close and kisses him until they’re both out of breath. He leans back and bites his lip, staring down his boyfriend.

Steve smirks and puts his hand on Bucky’s chest, distancing himself from the brunet. “Spoil me and maybe later we can make that work.”

“Are you seriously insinuating I should buy you things to get laid?”

Stepping out of the elevator and onto their floor, Steve shrugs. “Let’s go to the mall and maybe you’ll find out.”

 

Sam was right in not wanting to go. Apparently with the first of the year, comes a whole lot of traffic at the mall. An old lady in the parking lot nearly mows them over while trying to get a spot only three spaces in – facing the wrong way. Bucky lashes out and grabs a fistful of Steve’s sweater, jerking the blond back next to him.

He turns pale and glances up at Bucky. “Thanks…”

Despite having struggled through the crowded parking lot. And the crowded entrance. And the crowded halls. And the crowded stores. They find nothing. Defeated, and having squandered most of their day to the mess of other people’s impatience, they start for home.

On the way there, they stop by a convenience store, picking up only three things. Wine coolers, hard cider, and lube. The man behind the counter stares at the products for a moment before he shakes his head and asks for Bucky’s ID. Though, their choices probably aren’t the worst he’s ever seen; the late-night crowd is always full of oddballs. He bags the products and sends the boys on their merry way.

 

When they reach the dorm, it’s devoid of Sam. Steve checks his room and shrugs, returning to the kitchen to put the drinks in the fridge. He wheels around, hoping to find Bucky behind him, but the brunet is nowhere in the room. He frowns and sighs, kicking off his shoes and returning to their bedroom.

Bucky turns around, shirt tangled around his arms as he shakes the clothing off. “Sam’s not home.”

“Did he mention where he was going?”

“No.”

Steve sighs and shuts the door, his own shirt coming off with much more grace. “We have no clue how much time we have alone then.”

Hands resting on his waistband, fingers poised at the button, Bucky tilts his head. “Excuse me?”

“Take your pants off.” He closes the space between them with a few strides, nearly knocking Bucky back with the force of his kiss. His hands wander over his chest before lowering to push Bucky’s fingers out of the way. He unbuttons the jeans and tugs them down, pushing Bucky back against the bed and climbing on top of him.

“Whoa, don’t I get a say in this?”

Steve frowns and presses a hand to Bucky’s forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t want to-”

“I did _not_ say that.” He pushes Steve off and faces him away, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck. “I’m just saying I want to do it _this_ way.”

A chill prickles up Steve’s spine as Bucky presses him closer to the wall, hands travelling south to dismiss the rest of his clothing. His skin chills in the air, wet from Bucky’s kisses traversing down his shoulders to the center of his back. He braces an arm against the wall and closes his eyes to the feeling of lips and hands grazing his skin.

Bucky indulges Steve’s senses for a few moments, paying close attention to the sensitive crook of his neck before allowing himself to carry on. He sucks on his fingers before pressing them deep into Steve, eliciting a soft moan from the blond. His fingers aren’t slick enough and he’s impatient as ever. He grabs the bottle of lube and practically wastes half of it, losing more to the floor than to his hands as he continues stretching Steve. Rudimentary and rough, he gets the job done and lines himself up against Steve. He presses forward, slowly inching into the blond writhing against the wall. Steve’s breath grows erratic within seconds as he pants against the wall, trying to keep his voice in check.

Bucky reminds him as his voice nearly breaks that if he’s too loud the neighbors will hear. He has to be good and silent as Bucky slides in further, his cock hard and hot against Steve’s backside. The blond whines for Bucky to start thrusting and Bucky obliges as he warns for Steve’s silence with a gentle hand on his throat. He slams his body against Steve’s and barely resists tightening his grip on Steve’s neck as he moans even louder.

Trying to steady himself against Bucky’s thrusts, Steve braces himself against the wall with both hands, shaking, well aware that his cock is dripping precum all over the bedroom floor. Panting as the thrusts come faster, Steve lets his head drop against Bucky’s shoulder, biting his lower lip and shutting his eyes tight, desperate to keep his screams silent as his best friend pounds into him. He whimpers softly as Bucky’s left hand slides from his neck to wrap around his waist. Forced over, Steve grips the edge of Bucky’s bed as the latter relentlessly slams into him.

Bucky leans over Steve’s body, kissing his shoulders, distracting, as he himself struggles to keep silent as he comes. He slips his hand lower to Steve’s cock thumbing the dripping slit and quickly jerking him off as his own thrusts turn slow and gentle. He muffles Steve’s moan with his free hand and kisses at the blond’s neck, everything winding down to a soft buzz and lull of heavy air. Bucky pulls out and spins Steve around, kissing at his sweet pink lips. He hugs the blond and tows him to the bed, drawing him closer to his own body.

Steve exhales softly, eyes still hazy and senses lazy. He smiles at Bucky and leans closer, kissing the brunet’s nose. Bucky breaks into a massive grin, a happy peace settling over him as he yawns, growing sleepy. Steve mimics the action and his eyes flutter shut; his breathing slows and steadies as he falls asleep.

Bucky kisses his forehead, whispering his goodnight, “Love you, Steve.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise these correlations with current holidays is an absolute and delightful accident. It'll probably end after this because I'd rather not bore you guys with four month long intervals of nothing.

With the start of new classes, the trio get swept up into all the hysterics that come with the beginning of a semester. The scramble for books, supplies, and funding stirs their lives up and by the time the dust settles, it’s February. The first to notice is Sam.

Slamming the door with such a force that the walls shake, Sam storms into the living room. “NEXT WEEK IS VALENTINE’S DAY!”

Wide eyed, Steve sits up, slowly removing the book in his hands from his face and his head from Bucky’s lap. “So it is…”

“AND I’M _SINGLE_!”

Bucky glances up when the distraction of Steve’s hair has fled from his fingertips. “What happened? You’ve been with her for like, a year.”

Sam sinks to the couch, arms crossed in a huff. “Yeah, well that doesn’t matter when she’s fallen for another guy.” His disgruntled façade crumbles and his eyes drop to his twiddling thumbs. “I just can’t believe she’d lead me on like this… She said she’s been scoping him out for the last three months. To see if he was up to her standards and, apparently, _he_ is.”

Steve scoots to Sam’s side and puts his arm around his torso, pulling him in for a big hug. “I am so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Bucky takes the arm of the couch and leans on Sam, squeezing his unclaimed shoulders. “We’re here for you.”

“I had everything planned out…” Sam stifles a sob with a hiccup and sighs, “Reservations, champagne… What am I supposed to do now?”

Steve shrugs. “Keep the champagne and cancel the rest? Stay home and celebrate the day of love with us!”

Bucky shoots Steve a glare, well aware of the plans he had for Steve that day. “Maybe celebrating is a bad idea. We don’t want to trigger poor Sam.” He pats Sam’s chest. “Let’s think about what he needs.”

“Yeah, Sam. Let us treat you.”

The brunet shakes his head. “Thanks guys, but I think maybe I should leave alone the whole “love” atmosphere for a while. You should celebrate as a couple.”

 

Secretly happy with Sam’s response about Valentine’s Day, Bucky quickly believes karma has come for him. Two days before the day of love, Steve has come down with the flu. He ends up nursing his sick boyfriend back to health the entire weekend.

Feeling bad for being a walking plague for their first Valentine’s Day together, Steve sets up a reservation at the nicest restaurant he can think of. He hopes to make up for the missed holiday by going all out for their six-month anniversary that Friday.

 

The restaurant is filled with well-dressed people. Even in slacks, a button down, and a bow tie, Bucky manages to feel out of place.

He and Steve are led to their seats and he timidly takes his, watching his boyfriend smile at the waiter with much more comfort and ease.

“Have you been here before?”

Steve turns to him when the waiter has taken their drink order and left. “Not in a while. Why do you ask?”

Bucky glances around the restaurant, noting the high ceilings and silver trimmed furniture. “This place just seems so upscale; I can’t imagine a college student frequenting it.”

Picking up his menu, Steve shrugs. “I came here a lot when I was a teenager. My grandma has more than enough money in retirement because my grandpa left her so much when he died. She prefers the finer things in life. And this place is one of those things.”

Staring at the thirty dollar tag for the cheapest meal, Bucky sighs, “Steve, this is too much.”

“It’s really not. If we went out for both Valentine’s Day _and_ our anniversary, it’d be the same amount.”

“Didn’t we plan on staying in for Valentine’s Day?”

Steve grins. “That’s beside the point.”

Shaking his head, Bucky gives up on the issue of money and focuses his attention on Steve. “Can you believe it? Six months together. That’s half a year.”

Steve groans and tosses a dramatic hand over his forehead. “It feels like _forever_.”

Bucky kicks at Steve’s shoes and squints at the blond. “Don’t be a punk.”

Laughing, Steve picks up his menu again. “I know, I know. But, in all honesty, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in a relationship.

Bucky blushes inadvertently. “Really?”

Steve smiles softly and sets his menu aside, reaching for Bucky’s hand. “Absolutely.”

The feeling in his heart swells, pushing over the brim of his emotion and Bucky finds himself on the verge of tears. “I lo-”

“Steven Rogers?”

A call from behind him throws Bucky off and his words freeze in his mouth. He turns and sees a man, dressed in a three-piece suit, barreling toward their table.

Letting go of Bucky’s hand, Steve scoots out his chair, practically leaping at the man coming his way. “Arnold Roth?” He collides into a hug with the fellow, now arrived at their table. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you!”

The taller man tosses a lock of dirty blond hair from his eyes and gives Steve a sickeningly sweet grin. “Too long.” He glances up and down Steve’s frame. “Damn, you look good Steven.”

Steve reddens and straightens out his jacket. “Thanks. You do too. What are you doing here?”

“Oh I work here.” He smirks. “I’m the manager.”

“No way! That’s so…”

At this point, Bucky has tuned out. His stomach dropped the second this Arnold guy interrupted him and the words caught in his throat, clearly never destined to make it past his lips. He watches the two of them embrace and talk animatedly, obviously overjoyed to see each other. If this stranger is so important to Steve, then why the hell hadn’t he mentioned him before?

“Oh right. Of course. This is Bucky Barnes. I mean, James.”

Raising an eyebrow, Arnold glances at Bucky. “What, is that a special nickname for him?”

Steve blushes. “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh.” The taller man gives a small smile to Bucky that nearly seems like a grimace. “You know, Steven, I think this is fate. We _have_ to spend some time together.”

“Yeah! Definitely. Let me give you my number so you can call me or something.” Steve takes the pen from Arnold and jots his phone number down on the back of a business card for the restaurant.

“Thanks so much, Steven.” His voice is low and sweet as he bids Steve goodbye. “I’ll be calling you.”

Steve waves him off and sits back down. “I’m sorry for that. I can’t believe that was him.”

Bucky has to control himself against rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, what a _shock_ to see him.” He crosses his arms, defensive without fully realizing it. “And who was he?”

“That was Arnold Roth.”

“Okay yeah, you said that. But who _is_ he? To you.”

Hesitating, Steve picks up his menu again. “He’s my ex.”

A deafening silence falls over the table as Steve pretends to be occupied with the list of choices and Bucky stares at him, speechless.

Steve tries to correct the mood by distracting his boyfriend from the matter at hand. “So what were you thinking of getting?”

“Are you serious?”

He sets down the menu, noticing Bucky’s balled up fists and tight jaw. “Are you really that mad about me saying hi to him?”

“I’m frustrated.” He slides his hand across the table and takes ahold of the untouched whiskey beside his silverware, tossing back the contents of the glass. “You were all too happy to see him, but I think you forgot a few things.”

Crossing his arms, Steve leans back in his chair. “What.”

“Your ex is a ridiculous flirt. He kept touching your arm and complimenting you and you didn’t even flinch. Not to mention that he felt free to carry on with this because you didn’t mention that I’m your _boyfriend_.”

“He saw me holding your hand.”

“Oh really? When? In those few milliseconds before you tore yours out of mine to hug him?”

Steve grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. “Let it go, Bucky. We’re supposed to be having a nice dinner. _Together_.”

Torn between his anger and knowing he’d end up the bad guy if he pursued the argument, Bucky sighs and gives up the dispute. “Fine, you’re right.” He smiles, attempting to put himself in better mood for the sake of Steve. “Now where were we before we were interrupted?”

Steve reaches across the table and takes his hand. “You were expressing something that sounded mushy.”

“Right, where was I…”

“Have you decided on what to order?”

Steve glances at the waiter then back at Bucky, tossing his boyfriend an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I think we have.”

 

The rest of their dinner goes over much smoother than its turbulent beginning. By the time dessert rolls around, Steve has scooted his chair to sit flush with Bucky’s. While waiting for a mini cheesecake to arrive at their table, Steve leans up to kiss Bucky’s neck, finding his lips hitting metal instead. He recoils and frowns. “Are you wearing a necklace?”

“What? No.” He pulls the metal chain from beneath his collar, displaying two flat pieces on the end. “They’re my father’s dog tags. One of the few things I got from him in his will.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear them before…”

Bucky shrugs. “Usually I don’t. I just felt like it today. Don’t know why.”

“Maybe you think he’d approve of you dating a fellow army offspring.”

Grinning, Bucky nods. “I’d like to think that.”

Steve sighs, “I wish I had my father’s dog tags. Maybe then I could feel a little closer to him.”

“What happened to them?”

“No clue. My mom wore them when she was alive. Wouldn’t leave the house without them. It was something I especially loved about her. She always wanted to bring him along even though he wasn’t there anymore.” The admiring shimmer in his eyes fades as he goes on. “When she died, I expected her to be buried with them, but they used her wedding jewelry instead. After that, they were gone. Her belongings were sold or donated and I never saw those dog tags again.”

“Isn’t there anyone who might know where to find them?”

“My grandma I guess. But it’s been years. Who knows if she even remembers what happened to them.” He weaves his fingers between Bucky’s and leans on him for support. “She never thought he was good enough for her Sarah, so I doubt she kept them long.”

Turning to plant a kiss on Steve’s head, Bucky attempts to console him. “I saw their wedding picture you keep next to your bed. At least you look like your father. And if anything, he must have been a good man. You’re probably the son of a hero.”

Steve glances up at Bucky, opens his mouth to say something, but stops and smiles. “Thanks.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is a bitter little babe. -- Enjoy.

Much to Bucky’s dismay, February goes out with a fizzle. The damn number Steve got from Arnold on their anniversary keeps calling his cell phone. He’s spent less time with Steve the last week of the month than he has in the entire time he’s known him.

Even Sam has noticed Bucky’s changing demeanor. “Looking a little green, aren’t we?”

Bucky scowls at his roommate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on. This is the third time this week Arnold has called and all you do when that phone rings is sit and fume.” He pokes at Bucky’s bicep. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not.”

Steve emerges from his room, pulling on his coat. “Arnold and I are going out for drinks. I’ll be back… Probably before midnight.”

When the door closes, Bucky grits his teeth and groans. “Okay maybe I am jealous. But why the fuck should his _ex_ be getting more dates that I am?”

“Maybe you should talk to Steve. He’s a reasonable guy. I’m sure he’d understand that you’d rather he didn’t hang out with an ex-boyfriend. Especially the ex that he said was the one that got away.”

A chill runs through Bucky and he slowly turns toward Sam. “What did you say?”

Wide eyed, Sam bites his lip. He grimaces and sighs, “I wasn’t supposed to let that slip…”

“When did Steve say that?”

“It was a few days ago… You went out to get dinner with Natasha and he and I sat around talking for most of the night.”

Feeling his stress level rise, Bucky takes a deep breath, not wanting to unleash his frustrations upon Sam. “Do you know _why_ he said it?”

Sam shrugs. “My best guess is just the fact that he popped back up into his life. He told me that they dated for most of high school and he was in love with him. But a few months after graduation, the guy just up and leaves for Chicago. Broke Steve’s heart in the process. He always imagined that Arnold was the one that got away because of it and seeing him again, back in New York… Well, it’s making him think about his feelings, a lot.”

Bucky drops his head to his hands and sighs. “I can’t believe this is happening.” He stands abruptly. “Steve is _mine._ ”

“Hell, I know that. Why don’t you prove it to Steve? If you don’t watch it, you might end up like me. Single.” Sam pulls out his phone, turning it to show Bucky the screen. “But don’t worry. I know where they’re going.”

 

Club Hielo y Fuego is exactly what is expected from the name alone. Downtown and located in the basement of an upscale hotel, it’s cocktails are expensive and mostly tequila based with the rest based on an absurd amount of vodka. Pretentious to a T. Bucky’s glad he changed into something decent before chasing after Steve.

The place is dark, barely lit by the pink and blue under lights that case the bar and seating around the edges of the dance floor. Lights flash purple and red at the center of a marble floor, illuminating the feet shuffling to a glitchy rhythm of techno music. The collection of bodies dancing, clustered even around the bar, is difficult to get through. But Bucky manages.

He slips past the crowd and finds a vacant seat at the bar, using the central location to scope out the rest of the large room. The flashing gives him a headache before he’s even scanned half the club. He sighs and pulls out his phone, hoping that Steve has it on vibrate or something he’ll notice in the middle of a blaring pop song. The call goes to voicemail and his hopefulness is cut down another notch. He orders a drink and slaps down his money, sipping on the whiskey he likely could have purchased whole with the money he spent on two fingers.

Allowing himself to relax for a moment, Bucky is surprised when his phone begins to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at the caller – Steve.

“Hello?”

“Heya, Buck. What’re you calling for?”

“I need to talk to you. Where are you?”

Steve laughs, his airy, very nearly drunk, laugh. “I’m hiding in the bathroom so I could call you.”

Bucky drops off his stool and winds his way across the club toward the men’s bathrooms behind a partition wall. “Where is Arnold?”

Walking into the surprisingly quiet bathroom, Bucky watches as Steve’s shoulders pull up and drop.

“I don’t know. I lost him.”

Hanging up the call, Bucky reaches out. “Steve…”

The blond spins around, blue eyes widening in confusion. “Why are _you_ here?”

“I came to get you back.”

“Back? Back from what?”

“From Arnold. I’m not going to let him suck away any more of my time with my boyfriend.” He steps closer. “Come home with me.”

Steve steps back, bumping into the sink and triggering the motion sensor. “I can’t. He’s waiting for me to get back.”

“You’re really going to ditch me in favor of _him_?”

Despite his apparent drunkenness, Steve’s demeanor is nearly childlike as he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He glances up at Bucky, meeting his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

Yes pulls on Bucky’s tongue but he sighs and shakes his head. “No… I just want you to come home with me.”

“Why?”

“So I know you’re safe, okay?” He grabs Steve’s hand, towing him close. “I don’t trust Arnold with you. You’re too important to me.”

Pulling his hand away, Steve steps around Bucky. “I’m having fun. You can go home.”

Struck dumb by Steve’s words, Bucky watches him leave, unable to conjure a counter argument as to why he shouldn’t stay.

By the time Steve shuffles through the throng of dancing people, back to Arnold in the corner, the guilt and regret have begun to sink in. He relays what happened to Arnold and the man simply laughs at Bucky’s desperation.

“You need someone you actually _want_ to go home with.” He pulls on Steve’s hand. “Isn’t there a better option for you?”

Tearing his hand away from Arnold, Steve shakes his head. “I- I-” He steps back. “I have to go.” He darts for the exit, brushing past people in a hurry to get out of the crowded space. The doors swing wide as he bursts through them, almost hitting the bouncer checking I.D.s. He apologizes and slows his speed, shuffling down the street as he fumbles for his phone.

Three rings and voicemail. He sighs and sits on the city bus bench. His feet swing and scrap the concrete below, scratching in a mind numbing pattern. A gripping sensation fills his chest as guilt fills him further, sobriety beginning to set in.

He doesn’t acknowledge the footsteps stopping beside him.

“Steve?”

Glancing up, he can’t control the smile on his face. “Hi, Buck.” Not knowing where to begin, Steve stands and hugs Bucky tightly, burying his face in his chest. He mumbles against the fabric, “I’m sorry.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He just holds Steve close and kisses the top of his head, silently letting the blond know he’s forgiven.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost been a month since I posted! I'm so sorry for the delay. Better late than never, I suppose. And just in time for Bucky's birthday. :) hope you guys don't mind sweet things.

The clock tolls six in the evening on March tenth. Bucky is worried about his boyfriend. In last few weeks he had been slightly neglectful in their relationship. His time was consumed with being on the phone, talking to people he didn’t know and organizations he wouldn’t tell his Steve about. It didn’t seem to be putting a strain on their relationship, but he could be wrong. To make matters worse, Steve neglected to show up at the P.R.I.D.E. meeting, something he had taken to co-organizing with Bucky.

At a quarter after, Steve walks in the door, a wide grin on his face as he approaches his boyfriend. He kisses him quickly and pulls him to his feet. “Get dressed. I have something to show you.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhmm. Hurry though. Don’t want the ice cream to melt.”

Tugging on jeans and a button down to mirror Steve’s wardrobe, Bucky takes to following the blond down to the dorm’s rec-center. On a table in the middle of the room sits a cake with happy birthday scrawled across it in green icing. He can’t help but smile as Sam pops up, beginning to sing. Though, he nearly screams when the remaining dozen or so people do the same. Steve lights the candles in the middle of the song and tugs Bucky toward the cake.

“Make a wish!”

He smiles and takes a deep breath, huffing out the two-dozen tiny flames in one go. “How did you find the time to plan this?” He stares at the decorations littering the walls and the mountain of gifts tucked to the side. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without Sam. He’s a pro-party planner.”

“Aww, don’t forget me…”

Bucky’s blood chills as that voice hits his ears. He turns, seeing Arnold walk up to the celebration, red ribboned gift in hand. “Arnold… What a _surprise_.” Bucky glances at Steve who’s wide eyed and fumbling for words.

“I couldn’t miss Steven’s best guy’s party, could I?”

Unable to feel anything but discontent and anger, Bucky forces a smile, bitterness building in his chest. “Of course not.” He directs his attention to the rest of the party-goers, watching the uncomfortable encounter. “If you could all excuse me for a moment.” He sets off, running for the elevator.

Light footsteps accompanied by wheezing tell him that Steve’s following close behind. He steps into the elevator and realizes the blond isn’t as close as he might seem, barely making it past the doors as they close.

“Buck…” Wheeze. “What.” He coughs. “Was that?” He leans against the railing for support, finally gaining control over his breathing again. “Why’d you run?”

The lid on his emotions, strained from the last few weeks, pops off and he slams his fist against the wall, hitting the elevator’s emergency stop button. “Why did I run? _Why did I run_? I ran because I am _sick_ of having to deal with your little blast from the past. I don’t know if it’s occurred to you in these last few weeks but I am _NOT_ okay with your ex-boyfriend slinking all over you.” He grits his teeth and groans. “He has been fucking up _everything_ since the moment he saw us in that restaurant. I thought things would change after what happened at the club but apparently I’m wrong. You just go on seeing him as if it’s no big deal! You don’t seem to care that he’s your ex or about how I might feel seeing you flung all over another guy. Am I such a shitty boyfriend that you have to slowly phase me out and replace me with _him_?”

Stunned, Steve stares at Bucky, silent. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing escapes.

Anger having leached out in his words, a solemn expression casts down on Bucky, and he begins to choke up. “Sam told me what you said. About Arnold being the one that got away.” He sniffles, tears dripping off of his lashes. “If that’s true, just tell me now. Don’t make me suffer until spring break when I’ll have time to cope with a breakup.”

Steve gasps and shakes his head. “No, no, no, no, no.” He rushes Bucky, hugging him tightly. He speaks quietly, lips brushing against Bucky’s shirt as he explains. “That was true, yes, at one time in my life. But that part of me could have never imagined you.” He glances up at Bucky, sorrow filling his chest at the sight of his weepy boyfriend. “He meant a lot to me at one point, but then left me high and dry after high school. I didn’t think I’d feel the same way about anyone else.” Steve resettles his head against Bucky’s chest, listening to the quickening beat of Bucky’s heart as he continues to speak. “You’re not like him. You’re better. The best I’ve ever had.” He peeks up at Bucky’s face. “And probably will have.” A worry about Bucky’s reaction fills his body as he sighs, trying to expel the anxiety from his chest. “I don’t want to replace you. I’d _never_ want to replace you. I love you.”

A sharp gasp causes Steve to stagger away from Bucky in surprise. New tears are forming at the edges of his eyes, happier ones than before. Bucky pulls Steve toward him, planting a kiss square on his lips. He lifts his head and smiles, that longing emotion finally spilling over his lips. “I love you too.”

The blond lights up, a happy, bursting feeling pulling at his heart. “You do?”

“Steve… Of course I do. I’ve just been worried that you didn’t.” He cups his boyfriend’s face with his hands. “I fell in love with you the second you made fun of my shitty fliers before we had the P.R.I.D.E. name change.” He kisses Steve’s forehead, pulling him into a tight embrace. “You’ve been with me through so much. I’ve only loved you more and more each day.”

Leaning back, Steve grins at Bucky. “I am honestly the luckiest guy to have you.” He picks up Bucky’s left hand, kissing the prosthetic. “You mean so much to me. More than you’ll ever know. But since I don’t have enough time in the world to express that,” He presses the release button on the elevator’s emergency stop. “how about I kick Arnold out of your party.”

Smirking, Bucky kisses Steve. “It’s almost as if you read my mind.”

 

Fortunately for Steve, Sam had done all the dirty work while he was stuck in the elevator hashing out his and Bucky’s stresses from the last few weeks.

He glances around, a bit puzzled by the lack of his ex. “Did Arnold leave?”

Sam laughs, “No. I kicked him out. Told him he didn’t need to be stirring up trouble in your relationship anymore.” He plates a piece of cake and hands it to Steve with a smile. “Well, that’s the gist of it. Long story short, he’s gone. You might not hear from him again.” He grins wider. “Not that I’m sorry about that either.”

Bucky sneaks up behind Sam and plants a kiss on his cheek. “You’re a real keeper, Sam. We gotta get you someone worthy of that smile.”

The brunet rolls his eyes and playfully elbows Bucky in the ribs. “Don’t make me shove cake in your face on your birthday.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Bucky backs away, thanking Sam again. He turns to his other guests, greeting friends and hopping from cluster to cluster in order to socialize with everyone. The party doesn’t last long – it ends when the cake does – and the presents are transported up to the trio’s dorm by the armful.

 

After tearing into the dozen or so gifts, Bucky trashes the wrapping paper, shuffles the cards into a pile, and stacks the rest of the presents in the corner of the living room. He yawns and stretches slowly, shuffling off to his room to get ready to sleep. Steve is waiting for him, sprawled across his bed.

He smirks, barely able to suppress the lust that his barely clothed boyfriend invokes. Unfortunately, sleep weighs heavy on his eyes as he scuffles forward. “Hey, Steve. You got something in mind?”

The blond fingers the waistband of his boxers. “What if I do?”

Bucky yawns, feeling altogether unromantic or sexy. “Can this wait? I really need to get some sleep.”

“Buck, it’s not even ten yet.” He sits up, disappointment plain on his face.

Slumping into bed, Bucky kisses Steve, mumbling against his lips. “What if I made it up to you tomorrow? Hmm? Would a couple’s shower make up for postponing this?”

Steve hops down from the bed, trying to hid his reddening cheeks. “Yeah, I think it could.” He slips under his own sheets and reaches for the lamp, hesitating. “Oh, I don’t want you to forget. We’re leaving first thing Saturday morning.”

Bucky plants his face in his pillow, practically yelling to be heard. “For what?”

“The airport. We’ll pick up the tickets there.”

Sitting up, Bucky frowns. “I’m sorry, what?” He yawns, “Where are we going?”

“Maine. I told you. Spring break, blah-blah-blah, visiting my grandma, yadda-yadda-yadda, you’re definitely coming with me, etcetera-etcetera.”

“I don’t remember that.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Well too bad because we’re going. You’ll have to pack tomorrow.” He turns out the light. “G’night, Buck.”

Less than three minutes ago he was close to passing out, and now Bucky can’t seem to catch a break of exhaustion. He stares at the ceiling, every outcome about meeting Steve’s grandmother running through his brain: she’ll hate him, she’ll love him, she’ll disown Steve for dating a man. The anxiety starts to tighten in his chest.

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, trying to force the worry away from him. A whistling snore soon fills the room and he can’t help but smile at the sound. Maybe the worst case scenario could happen, but even still, at the end of the day he’d have Steve to come home with.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure there's a dozen reasons I could give for not posting in three, almost four months, but the reality is, college kicked my ass so hard I lost all inspiration and will to write. Thankfully, summer is good for restoring that sort of thing. So here we go, so much later. This chapter is about twice as long as the others I'd been posting, so hopefully that makes up for my extended absence.

In the wake of having to pack a week’s worth of clothing in one day – as well as doing that mess of laundry – Bucky completely forgot to mention he had never been on a plane before, nevertheless been in an airport. If he hadn’t been so freaked out by the people patting him down and trying to make sure his prosthetic was just that, he might have been embarrassed at his clinging to Steve. Not to mention the fact that numerous times during the flight he resorted to sticking his head between his knees so he wouldn’t vomit.

When they finally get off the plane, Bucky kisses Steve, thanks Jesus, and walks as quickly as he can away from the tarmac.

Considering that they’ll be in the state for more than a few days, Steve decided to rent a car. He’d lived with his grandma so long that he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to touch her blue ’69 Porsche 911, even after he’s had his license for more than five years.

The rental company picks them up, Steve signs too many papers, and eventually they head out of the city toward the coast. Bucky sits in the passenger seat, jittering the whole drive.

Steve reaches out and puts his hand on Bucky’s bouncing knee. “You okay?”

“Sure, sure. Of course.” He glances out the window. “Never felt better.”

“I’ve never seen you this nervous. Not even when you thought about coming out to _your_ grandma.”

“My gran is my gran. I’ve known her all my life and she’s fairly predictable. I expected the worst. And- and even though I didn’t get that, I was prepared for it. Your gran is not my gran. I have no idea what to expect. In any case, you never even finished the story about when you came out to her.”

Steve grimaces. “Maybe finishing that now isn’t such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to scare you. Anyhow, she still loves me… That’s all that matters, right?”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. “I guess so.”

 

Less than five miles from the coast, a white two-story house with blue trim greets Steve and Bucky as they pull up the long dirt pathway. In the corner of the large lot, sitting on a wooden swing attached to an enormous old tree, rests Steve’s grandmother. She rises from her spot, picking up the white fluff of a dog that was sitting beside her, and walks toward the car. Her hair is so silver it nearly looks lavender in the thin light filtering through the clouds in the sky. She looks nice enough, but Bucky is far from hoping.

With the dog tucked under her arm, she hugs her grandson as he hurries out of the car to greet her. They exchange a few words, some feet from the car.

Bucky takes his time exiting the safe haven of vehicular solitude, still wary of what to expect from the elderly woman. He eventually works his way around the car to stand a couple of steps behind Steve.

“Steven, who might this be?”

Extending a hand, Bucky smiles. “I’m James Barnes. It’s Helena, yes?”

She takes it gently and withdraws with a puzzle expression on her face. “Correct. Didn’t I speak to you over the phone about something of Steven’s?”

“You did. Of course we can talk about that later. Considering.”

“Yes, yes.” She turns toward the house. “Steven is lucky to have a friend like you.”

Having been distracted by the dog rolling in the dirt, Steve pipes up, brought back to the conversation by the mention of his name. “Actually, Grandma, he’s my boyfriend.” He stands up and laces his fingers with Bucky’s to further his point.

The old woman stops and faces the two boys, the gravel of the driveway scraping underneath her silk slippers as she turns. The confused expression is back. “Steven, I thought that was a phase.”

A worried nausea sweeps over Steve. He bites his lower lip and glances at Bucky who is all too willing to let him take the lead on this topic. A sigh escapes as he tries to explain his sexuality to his grandmother again. “Well, you’d be wrong. I have always liked both men and women.”

She places a hand on her hip, slightly affronted. “You only dated girls in high school. I’m not sure where you get this idea of dual sexuality from.”

“Bisexual. I’m _bi_ sexual. And not dating a gender doesn’t mean you can’t be attracted to them.” He pauses and tugs Bucky closer. “But in any case, I’m dating a guy now.”

His stomach twists as she directs her attention to Bucky, glancing him over with a discriminatory gaze. She makes a sort of hmphing noise and carries on, walking toward her house and calling the now dusty dog to her side.

Steve groans, “I am so fucked.”

“I thought you said we should wait until we got back to the dorms.”

Elbowing Bucky in the ribs, Steve can’t hold back the smirk breaking onto his face. He laughs and rolls his eyes, pulling Bucky in the direction of the house.

As the amusement from Bucky’s joke fades, Steve’s worry returns in full force. He wrings his hands, hoping he didn’t cross a line with his grandmother, praying he didn’t offend her by correcting her so bluntly.

The older woman shows them to the guest room and leaves with a brief mention of when dinner will be served. She doesn’t dawdle for long, almost eager to get away from the discomfort lingering in the air. The once white pooch follows her heels closely as she exits the second level of the house.

Bucky lands on the bed with a thump and sighs, “This is off to a _great_ start.”

Steve whacks his arm and recoils quickly, rubbing his fingers against the sting of metal. “Be nice. We have an entire week here.”

“A whole week to get on her good side?”

Setting himself on the bed beside his boyfriend, Steve lets out a heavy groan, “I don’t know if that’s possible in such a short amount of time. Within five minutes I’ve already offended her.” He glances at Bucky. “How am I supposed to fix that now?”

Weaving his fingers between Steve’s, Bucky shrugs. “I don’t think you really need to try that hard. Just be yourself.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“If that doesn’t work, we have a whole lot of coast to explore while we’re here. Plenty of time to kill away from this place.”

 

The first few days aren’t welcoming at all. Steve occasionally tries to strike up conversation with his grandmother but each time she’s distant. Visiting her in the kitchen gets him kicked out. Offering to help clean rewards him with a lecture on how to properly vacuum. And no, the dog doesn’t go on walks because his paws are too sensitive. He’s running out of options, quickly.

That Tuesday, Bucky suggests they head down to the closest beach and spend the day there. Steve agrees and packs a string pull backpack full of towels and sun screen. Bucky gives him a grin at the three bottles of spray and loads the cooler into the car. The umbrellas get strapped to the roof.

Being that it’s barely before noon, and most residents of the town are likely working, there are less than a handful of people at the beach. The sand is relatively untouched, so Steve and Bucky get to work fixing that issue. They stomp out a hundred or so feet from the gravel parking lot and plant their massive umbrellas in the sand. While Bucky is setting up the towels, Steve coats his skin with sunblock, twisting and jarring his body so that he can reach every exposed inch. The ocean breeze sweeps along and dries the spray in time for him to join Bucky under their own little spot of shade.

The brunet pulls out a deflated beach ball and grins. “Think we could have a little volleyball tournament?”

“I’m sure it’d be extremely one sided.” Steve sticks his hand into the air. “Not to mention the fact that the wind will likely take it for a run.” He stretches out and leans back, laying his head in Bucky’s lap. “I like this for now.”

Bucky smirks and slides the sunglasses off Steve’s face in order to kiss him properly. “I suppose staying like this couldn’t be so bad. At least we’re out of that stuffy house.”

Steve grimaces. “I’m sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“How weird my grandma is being. She’s usually really friendly. I don’t know what it is… I know I kind of snapped at her with the whole bisexual ordeal, but could she really be that offended? _She_ was the one that told me I was wrong about my own sexuality!”

Petting Steve’s hair, Bucky tries to calm him down. “Maybe you should talk to her. If you both sit and fester, nothing is going to be fixed. One of you has to make the first move and if her feelings are hurt, she probably won’t be the one to do it.”

Bringing his hand up to hold Bucky’s, Steve sighs and nods. “You’re right. The only way to fix this is to talk. I hope she doesn’t get mad that we won’t be there all day today.”

“Why should she? We’ve been in the house since we arrived and we leave on Friday. Beach time is definitely deserved.”

Bucky lays down and Steve repositions himself to rest on his chest. He sighs happily, “I love you, Buck.”

Kissing the top of Steve’s head, Bucky can’t help the smile on his face. “I love you, too.”

Before long, Steve grows uncomfortable and sits up, rummaging through the cooler for a drink. He takes a sip and stands, beckoning Bucky forward with is free hand. “Let’s get in the water.” He sets the soda down, taking a few steps away from their tiny fortress. “I’ve never been kissed in the ocean.”

More than a few hours are spent baking in the sun while being cooled by passing breezes. Now back at home, watching Steve dress, Bucky could swear that a couple dozen additional freckles have been spattered across his pale skin.

Steve turns, beginning rub aloe on his sun kissed pink face, grumbling as he applies more and more to the warmer areas. He sits beside Bucky, who’s lounging on the bed, and attempts to kiss the brunet, causing an immediate recoil in the other boy.

“Hey!”

“What? Your face is covered with green stuff. We can kiss once that’s gone.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve opens their bedroom door and waits for Bucky to get up. “I think dinner is going to be ready soon. Do you want to come down now or should I get you in a bit?”

“Go talk to your gran. Better now than later.” He yawns, tired from fighting the waves all day. “I might take a nap.”

Steve shakes his head and grins before turning for the stairs. He catches his grandmother in the middle of preparing dinner. Half the vegetables are chopped, and she looks frustrated with the results.

Ignoring the trembling in his own hands, Steve takes a seat at the breakfast bar, watching the older woman handle the food. He takes a deep breath and conjures up a meek smile. “Hey Grandma… Do you need any help with that?”

She returns the smile briefly before denying his request. “I’m just fine, thank you.”

Tempted to run and hide rather than face what he knows is coming, Steve feels his face warm up, potentially from the burns, likely from his shame. “I’ve done something, haven’t I?” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Was it what I said about my sexuality?”

The knife hits the cutting board and Helena places a hand on her hip. “You know I don’t give two hoots about that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s that Barnes boy.” She picks up the knife again and continues chopping with fervor, avoiding eye contact with Steve. “You were asleep one morning. He came down and was fussing with the checker board in the den. I struck up a conversation with him and, honey, you found a charmer. He’s a sweet boy, Steven, but seeing you so happy with him just reminds me that your poor mother is never-” The words catch in her throat.

“Grandma…” Steve sniffs, trying to compose himself. “Is that really why you’ve been avoiding spending time with us?”

“Silly, isn’t it? I just see you two so happy together and I find myself overwhelmed by the thought that she’s missing out on this.” She steps around the counter and takes Steve’s hands. “Darling it isn’t about gender or anything. It never was. I’m just being a sad old lady with regrets for the lost.” She kisses his forehead. “Bring him down. We still have two days together. Perhaps I can make up for all of my fussiness.”

In the time that they have left, Helena more than makes up for her previous reaction. The three of them spend their last two days watching old movies, visiting a couple swap markets, and trying all the fresh sea food they can get.

 

By Monday, back in classes, Steve is longing to go back, not quite sated with family time just yet. Luckily for him, he gains a large distraction in the form of a P.R.I.D.E. parade and festival.

The event has been in the works for a couple weeks now and moving forward with the semester, they have to double time in order to make sure the entire thing is set up. Since they don’t have the means to garner local support quite yet, Steve and Bucky allot each willing member of the group a theme and give them a wagon for decorating.

The plan is simple. Have the floats march around the school and end at the atrium where a local band will play a concert and a few food trucks will be available for anyone who attends.

By the third week in April, after juggling upcoming finals and flyer dispersal for the parade, Bucky is tired. He’s two weeks from graduation and each responsibility weighs heavier the closer he gets.

In all honesty, the only thing keeping him going is the parade and how excited Steve is for the event. He hasn’t even thought to tell his boyfriend he was offered a job already. Bucky can’t spoil the fun with reality. Not when summer is so close.

Not that summer will matter for him. The second he’s done with his cap and gown, he’ll have to trade in for moving boxes – and that terrifies him.

That Friday night, thanks to a squad of friendly officers, the P.R.I.D.E. parade goes off smoothly. No crotchety protesters, no bigoted students, nothing but people lined down the pavement, decorated in colorful gear and smiles.

Bucky can’t help but feel light as air as he watches Steve shuffle beside him, grinning for all he’s worth. As the founder of the group, technically Bucky was supposed to lead. He let Sam take the honor instead, hoping that sticking to the back of the parade would provide Steve with a little more oxygen due to the slower pace. His theory proves right and they make it to the concert unscathed.

Indie pop music fills the atrium as students gather around the stage to bob to the music and drink the cheapest beer they could smuggle in. Bucky takes Steve’s hand and lures him away from the crowd, back to a neglected corner. They sit down in the grass and Bucky pulls Steve into his lap, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.

“You know I love you, right?”

Steve glances down at Bucky, brow furrowing as he stares at the brunet. “Yeah… Of course I do. And I love you too.”

“Good.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I’ve gotten a job. It pays well, has great benefits, and huge potential for progress. You know, all those things that I’ll want from a career.”

Steve tries to wheel around. “That’s great, Buck! I can’t believe it!” He manages to contort in order to kiss Bucky. “Congratulations.”

Bucky blushes and graciously accepts the praise before feeling a hollow ache replace the glee. “There’s something I need to talk to you about though… About the job.”

Calming down, Steve grows a little quiet. “Is something the matter?”

“It depends on how you look at it.” Bucky bites his lip and groans. “Out with it, I guess. It’s in San Francisco.”

Feeling Steve stiffen, Bucky instantly regrets ever mentioning anything. Least of all at an event the blond was lauding as something he’d want to remember forever.

“You… You’re moving across the country?” Steve’s voice is heavy and slow, riddled with the threat of tears. “But-but I thought… I thought we were going to be together…”

“We can be! It’s just going to be long distance until you graduate. That’s not so bad, is it? We can work this mess out.”

Steve frowns and puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pushing away. He stumbles to his feet. “You’re saying that I’m supposed to move? When I graduate, I have to come to you?”

The logic seems flawed, being thrown back in his face, but Bucky didn’t think of anything else. “Well… I guess. But I’m sure there’s some sort of other solution.”

“Solution. Solution?” Steve’s pale face is lighting up with patches of red as he grits his teeth and paces away from Bucky, only to turn back suddenly. “This is a shit storm, Barnes. I can’t believe you’d expect me to uproot myself from the only home I’ve ever known.”

Slowly rising to his feet, Bucky tries to gather his thoughts, unable to before Steve is at his chest, poking him.

“How could you ever imagine that I’d follow you?”’

This is not what he planned for. Bucky reaches for Steve’s hand but the blond whips it away, backing up.

“No. No… You can’t just kiss me and make this all better, Bucky. You made a choice.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. If that’s what you want, I can’t be a part of it.” He turns and hurries toward the crowd, disappearing into the mess of people.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, last chapter. Resolution and all that jazz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I suffered you guys another really long break. I tried to keep it shorter than 4 months this time. That being said, I finished this just in time for school. I didn't want that getting in the way and end up updating the last chapter 8 months later. And yes, this is the last chapter. I hope everyone who's read this story it has loved it, or at least liked it. I'm so very grateful to have all of you readers still sticking with me. I appreciate it so much. Hope this final chapter is to your liking!

Several hours later, after extensive cleanup, Bucky is exhausted. Emotionally obliterated and defeated, he stumbles up to his dorm room, not exactly knowing what or who he hopes to see when he gets there.

Light hits his eyes as he slowly pushes open the bedroom door, heart beginning to pound as Steve comes into view. Bucky sets down his keys and kicks of his shoes, shuffling over to sit on his bed. He watches Steve cautiously.

The blond sighs and looks up, eyes red, likely from the tears that have stained his cheeks. “Buck…” He sniffles and stands, nearly launching himself at Bucky. Steve wraps his arms tightly around Bucky as he mumbles into the brunet’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking earlier. I was just so freaked out that you were leaving.” He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t like the idea of you moving so far away…” Steve pulls from the hug and slides his hands down to take Bucky’s. “I’ve thought about what you said a little more, and although I think being with you apart is better than being without you,” He huffs a little sigh and his eyebrows pinch together. “- I don’t think we should get back together.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the air rushes out of Bucky’s lungs in a low scoff. He tears his hands from Steve’s and stands up, grabbing his pillow. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Bucky-”

“NO, no.” He holds up a hand and shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear it Steve. I get it, I do. You’re picking the most logical route.” Bucky shrugs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset.” He forces a smile. “Goodnight.”

 

“What do you mean you broke up with him?”

“I’ve explained this already, Sam.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t get it. He’s moving across country and you’re just ready to give up on him? Just like that?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“The hell it isn’t. You two have been through a lot with each other. Why does _this_ make anything different?”

Bucky sits up, frowning and rubbing his sore neck, kinked from the couch’s arm. Immediately, the conversation in the room over draws his attention. He takes a deep breath and pulls himself off the couch and toward the soft voices. Sitting at the base of the closest wall, he tries to listen into the hushed discussion.

“I might have abandonment issues, okay?”

“So who’s abandoning who here? Are you abandoning James? Or is he-”

“ _He_ is abandon me. Alright?”

“Is that really fair to say?”

“None of this is fair, Sam. But I had to do something. It was either end the relationship or wait forever for the time to be right that he finally comes back to New York.”

“Those can’t be your only options.”

“Trust me, they are.”

“And did you even discuss this with James?”

Steve groans. “No. Why should I?”

“I dunno. Maybe because he’s half of this relationship you’re trying to ruin?”

“ _ME_? I’m not trying to ruin anything.”

“Then why not just talk it out?”

“Because…”

Sam sighs. “Steve, look. You and James have been together for what, almost nine months? That’s not a small amount of time. You can’t overlook everything you two have been through just because it’s difficult to deal with. He deserves better than this, Steve. So do you.”

“When did you get so smart?”

The smile is evident in Sam’s voice. “When did you get so stupid?”

Bucky can only assume that Steve swung at Sam for that comment, considering the soft ‘ow’ coming from the other room.

“Go talk to him.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Does that even matter? You need to fix this before it can get worse. I’ve seen you two; I’ve had to _live_ with you two. You guys love each other. I don’t want to watch it all fall apart over something as trivial as distance.”

The creaking of Steve’s bed indicates that he’s getting up as he mutters, “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Maybe I’ll just write him a note and stuff it under his pillow.”

“Steve…”

“Fine.”

Bucky scrambles to his feet, trying to make it to the couch in time so that Steve doesn’t know he’d been listening in. He lands with an uncomfortable thud, nearly tweaking his ankle. Glancing up, he attempts to look bleary eyed and exhausted. Steve doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Were you listening?”

Bucky’s reddening cheeks give him away. “Sorry.”

Steve sighs with a smile. “I’m the one that has to be sorry here. Saying what I did.”

Staring at his hands, Bucky talks through dense words. “Do you really think I’m abandoning you?”

“NO!” Steve rushes to the couch and pulls Bucky’s hands into his lap. “No, Buck, I don’t. I- I was just trying to give myself a decent excuse for being such an ass about you moving. I’m happy for you and your job, really. It’s just- It’s going to be difficult for me for a while. You have to understand that.”

“I do. Of course I do. I never expected this to be a walk in the park. For either of us. But I think it’ll be easier with you.”

Steve leans in, kissing Bucky softly. “You’re right. It will be. Long distance can’t be so bad.” He smiles. “We just have to get you through graduation first, otherwise you’re not going anywhere.”

 

Thirteen long days later, Sam and Steve are in the crowd of thousands, cheering on Bucky amidst the graduates. Steve shamelessly shrieks when Bucky’s shaking the dean’s hand and accepting his diploma. Sam takes a few steps to the right to preserve his hearing, and continues cheering just as loudly.

The after-party is hosted by Natasha, pleased to throw one last shindig with all of her friends before summer begins. The music is right, the people are great, and the atmosphere is perfect. But Bucky finds himself on the balcony, nursing a whisky he hoped would settle the tension in his stomach.

Sam finds him out there at the tail end of nine. “You don’t look like a man that just suffered through years of college and finally graduated. You look like a wreck.”

Bucky gives him a little side-eye and a smirk. “Yeah? Well I’ve been told that’s my permanent state lately.”

Dropping the joking edge, Sam lowers his voice, leaving it soft and worried. “Seriously, James, what’s wrong?”

Glancing up, Bucky tries to push away the emotion rising in his chest. He takes a deep breath and sighs, “I’m leaving everyone. Everyone I love. You, Steve, Natasha. Every last person I’ve made great relationships with will be almost three thousand miles away come Tuesday.” He pauses for a shaky breath. “It’s just hitting me now… Kind of hard to come to terms with.”

Sam doesn’t say a word. He just reaches out and pulls Bucky in for a hug. “We’ll always be here for you. A few thousand miles doesn’t mean we stop caring.” He lets go. “Plus, I’m looking forward to you and Rogers fighting over me when it comes time for you guys to pick your best man.”

Bucky grins, demeanor brightening. “He’s gotta say yes first.”

“He’d be a fool not to. Anyway, come back inside. This is your night. Leave your worries on the balcony and enjoy your friends’ company.”

 

Tuesday comes faster than anyone could have believed. Five days gone in the blink of an eye. Bucky blames packing and all those drinks he, Steve, and Sam shared on Saturday. One last hoorah of their trio before Bucky makes his way across the country.

With Sam working, it’s Steve alone that accompanies Bucky to the airport. But with an idea heavy on his mind, Bucky’s hardly thinking about poor Sam stuck at work. He’s still not certain about what he’s going to say, but he’s heard spontaneity is appreciated.

After checking in with security, the two young men stop to say their farewells. With the airport bustling around them, Steve and Bucky embrace, pulling each other in tightly. The blond sniffles a little, his emotions getting the better of him as he prepares to say goodbye to his boyfriend. For possibly the last time in a long while. He lifts his head off of Bucky’s chest and gives the brunet a weak smile. “I guess I’ll be seeing ‘ya.”

As he steps back, Bucky’s grip on his forearms tightens. “Wait, Steve.” He licks and bites his lower lip, eyes unfocused as his brain grasps at words flying around his head. “I-I need to-” He sighs, “You mean so much to me.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat to regain composure. “I hate to be leaving New York like this, but I know that it’ll always be here. You – on the other hand – I want to make sure you aren’t.” He hesitates. “It’s only right.” Wringing his hands together, he takes a quivering, deep breath. “So I only have two options for you. You can stay here and we’ll figure this long distance thing out – trial by fire –, because you were right when I first told you about this. It’s not fair to you at all.” His eyebrows knit together as he realizes what he’s about to say. “Or after you graduate,” He slowly sinks to one knee, pulling a box from his pocket. “- you move to San Francisco with me.”

An expression ghosts over Steve’s face and Bucky’s sure he can hear the blond’s heart breaking within his chest. His face pinches and his lower lip trembles as he shakes his head. “I-I…” He shakes his head again, stepping back. “I can’t.” His voice dissolves into a whisper, few tears landing on his cheeks with the rejection. “I’m s-” He bites the inside of his lip and steps back again, nearly running into the row of chairs positioned behind him. Glancing down, he crumples into one of the chairs, staring at Bucky, still poised on one knee.

The brunet slowly rises and keeps the ring close to his chest, watching, waiting for Steve. He blond finally jumps up from his sudden seat and crosses the few feet between them. He kisses Bucky, pulling him down to meet his mouth before letting go and expelling a deep sigh from his chest.

His words are barely above a whisper as he steps away, turning toward the closest exit. “Goodbye, Buck.”

Standing in the same position, Bucky remains in that spot for nearly five minutes, desperately hoping that what just happened was some sort of sick joke. When the intercom calls his plane number, he’s forced to move, constantly glancing back at the sliding glass doors Steve bolted out of earlier. He hands his ticket to the attendant in a daze, barely able to break a smile for her cheery face as she tells him to enjoy the flight. Slumping to his seat, Bucky stares at his hands, the ring now slipped over his pinky. An uncontrollable trembling rises in his chest as a sob threatens to tear through his body. He bites down on his lip and breathes slowly, staring up at the ceiling so that the tears don’t start rolling. He never imagined Steve would actually say no. Not after what he said a few weeks prior.

 

Thanking the cabbie with a small voice and a generous tip, Steve slides out of the taxi and trudges up the stairs to the dorm. He and Sam already talked about staying for the summer, but now the idea seems wrong without Bucky living there. Bucky. Just the thought of his name makes sadness swell in this throat and choke him of life. Why couldn’t he have said yes? What made the idea of marrying Bucky so terrifying? Maybe it wasn’t Bucky. Maybe it was the cross country move. Maybe it was just him.

He steps into his room, glancing at Bucky’s empty bed, and his eyes prickle with the warning that always precedes his tears. The mattress is the only thing that’s left, barren of all sign of Bucky. Almost. Steve frowns, stepping forward to scope out the crook of the bed. Wedged between the frame and the mattress is a long white box, the type stores use to package bracelets. He plucks it out and tugs the lid off, causing a tightly folded letter to spring up. He drops the box and picks up the letter, unfolding it and smoothing out the creases.

_Steve –_

_I know I should have given this to you sooner. I just didn’t know when the perfect time was to do it. You see all that talk about your father, and how you never got to meet him, got me thinking. So I did what any nosy boyfriend would do and I tracked down all the people that got their hands on your mother’s stuff after she died. Turns out, your gran had donated all of your father’s military belongings to a museum in New York for unclaimed veteran goods. Medals, uniforms, the whole lot of stuff. By the time I got to the museum, they had sold most of his belongings at auction to collectors of military junk. I mean that in the nicest way. I think. Anyhow, the museum is known for their collection of unclaimed dog tags. So, again, like any nosy boyfriend, I had Natasha make me a fake ID that had your name on it, borrowed your birth certificate – which you really shouldn’t hide in an old shoebox –, and pretended to be you when I went to get these. It took me months to finally get my hands on them and I’ve never been more proud of my conniving skills before. I may not have had the best relationship with my dad, but his tags still mean a lot to me. Here’s hoping your father’s will mean the same._

_Love, Bucky_

By the time Steve has finished the letter, it’s spotted with tears. He picks up the box and pulls off the cardboard protector, lifting the jingling dog tags out of their home. The joy at touching something his mother once treasured hits him like a runaway train and he begins laughing, all the while crying his eyes out. He’s thankful that Sam’s away so he doesn’t have to explain himself. After his fit of emotion, he takes a deep breath and sits down on the bare mattress, sliding the tags around his neck. He presses them to his lips and holds them against his chest, trying his best to feel his mother’s spirit through her most beloved possession. He’ll have to thank Bucky for this later.

Steve lowers his hand to his lap, his eyes suddenly getting wide. Realizing there won’t be a later. He told Bucky _no_. Leaping up from the bed, Steve grabs his wallet and keys, rushing out with his phone pressed to his ear.

 

By the time the plane lands, the clock is telling him only three hours have passed, when in actuality six have ticked away. Six, long hours of an empty pit forming in Bucky’s stomach with the ache in his chest only growing stronger. A car is waiting for him and he thanks the rental service as he takes the keys. His lonely trip concludes at his new apartment where the cheery white walls suddenly seem as drab and as void as he does. A few neighbors are out and about in the pool area and give him polite smiles as he passes the gates with his three bags of luggage. The rest of which his mother promised to drive out in a few weeks.

He drops the cases on the living room floor and nudges them to the side with his foot as he closes the door. Bucky flips the switch on the wall and the lightbulb sputters and pops, leaving him in artificial darkness. He sighs and kicks off his shoes, shuffling toward the bedroom, feeling dejected and miserable. He flops to the bed and winces as the velvet box in his right pocket bruises his hip with the pressure of being laid against. Bucky groans and sets it to the side, staring at it as he scrambles to get underneath the covers of the bed. It sits perfectly on his bed side table, silently mocking him for not having a place to go except back to the jeweler in Brooklyn. He’ll give it to his mother to return. There’s no way he could do that now. Not when Steve is gone.

A few hours later, with the sun dimming in the June sky, Bucky sits up and stretches his limbs, having not realized he’d slept so long. The source of his awakening is a loud pounding on his front door. He lives on the second story, so he steps outside and peeks over the balcony edge, hoping to see who is making all the fuss, but the angle is all wrong. Bucky resigns himself to answering the door and shoves his luggage to one corner of the living room before reaching for the handle. He turns the knob, opens the door, and stops, unable to process what is in front of him.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Steve…?” He blinks rapidly, rubbing his eyes and wondering if he was still asleep.

The blond purses his lips and tries to smile, the sobriety of his movement evident. He doesn’t want to make a mistake after what happened at the airport. “You know, I thought about what you said… How turning you down would basically be saying that I would never see you again… and I know I rejected your proposal, but I wasn’t thinking right.” He takes a deep breath. “You caught me so off guard I couldn’t process what you wanted and when I finally did, I realized how stupid I was to run out on you like that. I’ve made that mistake before. I can’t let it be permanent this time.” He reaches beneath his shirt and pulls the dog tags up by his thumb. “I also got your letter.” Steve smiles, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. “You have no idea how much this means to me…” He steps forward timidly. “I want you. I’m sorry for saying no earlier, but I just panicked. I want you and everything you are. I want this best friend type of complex that keeps you being my confidant and I want your love that shows itself in funny ways like my father’s dog tags.” Steve smile widens. “I love you, Buck. I’m sorry I put you through that mess earlier.” He hesitates. “Do you still want to marry me?”

Bucky grins. “Of course I do, Rogers.” He pulls Steve close and kisses him before pressing their tear wet cheeks together and kissing away any remaining drips. “I love you so much, you could have waited a month before you came to your senses and I would have taken you back.” He smirks. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”


End file.
